


Inexorable

by SophieRipley



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Culling, Explicit Language, F/M, Gen, Military, Pseudo-supernatural elements, Rebellion, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-16
Updated: 2016-12-02
Packaged: 2018-07-24 08:40:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 36,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7501569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophieRipley/pseuds/SophieRipley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Long ago, the predators rose up and took over; now, the pred army has control over Zootopia.  Prey are subject to curfew and restrictive laws, the old and weak are culled for food, and the predators live the high life in City Center.  Nick Wilde is an officer in the predator army's secret police, and Judy Hopps is the leader of a rebel faction.  Fate will throw them together...but can they survive?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introductions

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has been rated teen, but I might go back later and raise the rating for graphic violence. I've not decided yet how graphic I want to get, but I will ensure to post warnings in the notes as they become relevant. 
> 
> Also, I've begun a new job so despite my having several interesting fic ideas updates might be sparse for a bit while I adjust to the new schedule. Your patience is very much appreciated.

It was raining in the city.  The rain was heavy, loud, and cold, throwing the normal midnight dark into a near-abyss that even a fox’s eyes couldn’t easily pierce.  Nicholas Wilde stood on the covered balcony attached to his twelfth-story apartment staring into the violent downpour, so heavy he could barely see the building across the street.  His expression some would call carefully blank, the neutral thousand-yard stare he adopted when deep in thought, and he stood motionless letting the loud white noise of the precipitation wash over him like a meditating priest might use temple bells.  It helped him focus and disengage his mind, allowing his subconscious to work on the stress drowning his conscious mind.

“What are you doing out here?”  The vixen came out behind him and put a paw on his shoulder, but he remained silent.  “It’s cold, come back to bed.” 

Nick sighed and turned to face his guest.  She was still naked, but she had one arm drawn across her torso against the frigid misty breeze, and with her other arm she tugged on him.  Nick let himself be dragged back into the apartment proper, through the living room, and into the master bedroom.  As he lay down with her on his four-poster bed and covered them with the royal purple comforter, he realized that he didn’t even remember her name.  That wouldn’t be a problem because she would be gone by morning, and he’d be able to go back to his meditation.  His guest did have one point, though: it had gotten cold, and the warmth of her body pressing against his was very welcome.

When morning came, it wasn’t his alarm that woke him; it was his phone ringing.  Nick fumbled for the smartphone, thumbed the green <Accept Call> icon, and answered without sitting up, his voice smeared with sleep.

“Enforcer Wilde.”

_“Wilde, you’re needed in section seven,”_ came the voice of his superior, a wolf named Nedry.  _“I realize it’s your off-day, but a riot broke out and we need all the help we can get to clean it up. Your team will meet you there.”_   Nick groaned.

“Yeah,” muttered Nick into his pillow, “be there soon.”  He let his phone fall to the bed as he turned over and took a breath before getting up to get ready.

Another riot, and in Section Seven no less.  He’d warned the brass that reinforcing the night guard at the Section Seven gate wouldn’t stop the riots, and they hadn’t believed him.  How many personnel would they have to lose to pissed off prey before they would learn this experiment would not work?  And since he was going into a conflict zone, he couldn’t even wear his normal civilian attire; no, he had to wear the uniform.  He grumbled to himself as he pulled on the grey-green trousers, the dress boots, and the undershirt.  He hated this uniform, hated how it clashed against his rusty orange fur, but at least it showed his rank and the medals he’d earned in his career.  Nick was a third-rank Enforcer and the grey-green dress jacket showed as much.

He donned the jacket before the mirror, buttoned the silver buttons, and put on the high-sitting light-grey belt with his sidearm holster attached, then took a moment to admire the look.  It still clashed with his fur, but he couldn’t deny that it looked nice despite that. 

His phone went into his side pocket, the beret went on his head, the gloves went on his paws and the shin-length uniform trench coat went over his shoulders and he was ready.  As he walked out of his apartment, it didn’t even occur to him that his lady from the previous evening had indeed snuck out before he woke.

The gate in section seven’s wall was closed when Wilde arrived, but it became quickly apparent that it had been forced open at some point in the early morning.  His Enforcers were already on the ground helping pick up the slack left after the riot had claimed four soldiers’ lives, and the conflict was coming to an end as he approached the predator in charge, a badger with sergeant insignia on his uniform.

“What’s happening here, Sergeant?”  Wilde’s paws were in his trench coat pockets, and the coat obscured his uniform jacket, but the blue beret and its silver double-claw pin identified him as an Enforcer.  The badger, assuming correctly that Wilde was higher ranked, saluted before responding.

“At oh-five-thirty this morning, the gate was opened,” began the badger.  “We believe the locks were hacked.  Before we could stop them, twenty-three morsels came through armed and began taking shots at the guards—”  The badger stopped talking as Wilde raised a paw.

“Do you want to keep your rank, sergeant?”  He nodded.  “Do not use that disgusting slur again.”

“…sir?  They’re just prey.”

“Prey,” said Wilde coldly, “that may one day nourish you.  Show some respect.”  There was a moment of silence between the two before the badger nodded.  “So they started taking shots; with what, firearms?”

It didn’t take long to get the picture; a loose group of prey animals had stormed the gate as a show of force protesting the army’s presence in Zootopia and the new laws that had been implemented in the last ten years.  They had acquired military-grade arms somehow but were not trained, and the guards were able to drive them back after a drawn-out firefight, but during the assault someone had managed to copy important files off the computer in the guardhouse.  Six assailants had been wounded and were being patched up in preparation for arrest, and another two had been killed.  When the explanation was finished, Wilde dismissed the Sergeant and started over to his team, but the badger called him back.

“Sir? By the way…Azure was involved.”  Wilde scoffed.

“Azure is a myth, Sergeant.  Don’t tell me you believe in the bogeyman?”  The sergeant didn’t laugh or flush with embarrassment; instead, he led Wilde to the gate and pointed.

On the rail to the stairs next to the gate was a small jar, and inside the jar was a single bright blue flower, a nighthowler blossom. 

“It’s her signature, sir.  She leaves it at every scene she’s involved in.” 

Wilde stared at it for a long few minutes, watched the rain drip off the petals, and then he dismissed the Sergeant and called over Fangmeyer, one of his team members.

“Morning, Fang.  I want you to take this jar and flower to the ZPD forensics department.  Get it checked for prints, fur, saliva, DNA, anything we can get to determine where it came from and who left it.  This is your responsibility, take care of it.”  The tiger left with promises that she’d contact him if and when there was news.

It took another half hour to secure the scene, and a further two hours of paperwork before Wilde was able to go back home.  By the time he arrived at his flat and changed out of his uniform it was nine in the morning and too late to go back to sleep. He decided then to go back to his introspection on the balcony.  It was still raining, but the heavy downpour from the previous evening had become a steady shower, which was enough to lull the fox into a contemplative silence. 

 

* * *

 

Judith Hopps—Judy to her friends—stalked up and down the room, her paws clenched into fists at the small of her back, her ears flat along the back of her skull, and her expression one of flat fury.  She was silent save for her footsteps, but every mammal in the room knew that wouldn’t last.  When finally she did speak, it was quietly, her fair voice marred by the shaking of anger, and she refused to look at the crowd of animals before her as she did.

“Eight animals.  We lost eight.”  The bunny stopped her pacing in one corner, glaring at the wall as if it had insulted her ancestors, and she was silent and still for a long moment.

“‘We don’t need firearms,’ I said.  ‘They’ll be too tempting,’ I said.  ‘Someone will get hurt,’ I said.  Was I wrong?”  She turned and stalked to the center of the front of the room and finally looked at the crowd.  It was prey animals all, almost all of whom were smaller-scale.  Rabbits, hares, goats and sheep, smaller ungulates, and even larger rodents were arrayed in loose ranks in the dusty warehouse they used as a base of operations, and all of them avoided her gaze.

“ **Was I _wrong?!_** ”  Her shout caused the entire group to flinch, and one deer in the front, towering above Judy, muttered a negative to his feet.

“No I was not.  Six of us were wounded and are in custody, two of ours are dead, and we killed four of them.  That’s twelve casualties, you guys.  Six fatalities.  What did I say when I organized this group?”  Her question was spoken directly to a goat near the end of the front line and she mumbled a response.  “Louder, please.”

“You said ‘we will not stoop to their level.’  No killing or maiming.”  Judy didn’t give her any feedback, merely turned on her heel and stalked off again.  She made it to the other end and back again before continuing her speech.

“Twelve years ago, the Predation Coalition went to war on the ideals of peace and cooperation.  Ten years ago, they swept into Zootopia, slaughtered everyone who resisted, and took control.  They built the Wall of City Center to separate prey from predators, enacted curfews for prey, and they cull the old and the weak for food.”  Judy’s voice was academic, but each word struck like hammer blows on her audience.

“This rebellion was supposed to show them we do not fear them, that we will not give our lives to them or become the same kind of evil they’re infecting this city with.  Until last night, we were succeeding.”  She stopped and faced the prey assembled before her once more.

“No more weapons.  Period.  And I’ll be organizing some remedial training courses since you people don’t seem to understand what you’re doing.

“Dismissed.”

As the animals filed out of the room—some to rooms in the basement below, most into the city to go home or to work—Judy stood and thought about history.  Not just the war, but her own personal history.  She’d grown up in Bunnyburrow, among the oldest of almost three hundred kits, and at nine years old she had decided she was going to be a police officer in Zootopia.  Then, when she was twelve the war hit, and when she was fourteen the Preds took over, outlawing prey from taking positions of power.  Now the only prey that were allowed to be police officers were megafauna, and even then they never gained much rank.

Young Judy’s hopes and dreams were dashed.  But they wouldn’t stay dead:  the day Judy had turned eighteen and had to register with the government as a healthy prey animal, she decided she wanted to help fight the injustice.  Initially she was going to use any and all legal avenues available to her, had in fact applied to a very nice college to major in law, but before she could attend classes her parents had been called into the Euth Clinic.  They never walked back out, and there was nothing legal Judy could do about it.

So she formed a rebellion.  It took her four years to do it, and they had been slowly working in the background for the last two, gaining power and numbers through spreading information, disrupting predator troop movements, destroying pred supplies, and never ever failing to uphold their moral superiority.

The debacle at Section Seven last night may have undone all of that.  It was all she could do last night to prevent even more damage.  The only good that came of it was that they had achieved the night’s primary directive.

It was still raining.  Judy liked the rain:  it was soothing.  It allowed her to escape her thoughts.  She stood in the doorway to the warehouse for a long time listening to the rain, only leaving when it became time for work.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The attached picture was done by Softlight289 on tumblr by request, and was done beautifully. Thanks, my friend!


	2. A Meeting of Rivals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The following chapter has some mild depictions of violence, an instance of lewd sexual dialogue, and a mention of rape.

Nick sat in a diner at precisely half past six the evening of the attack on section seven gate.  He was alone, wearing a nice suit of grey fabrics, and reading a novel.  Before him sat a single glass of sweet blueberry wine, which he’d been sipping at for half an hour.  It was nearly depleted, and right on time his server approached to refresh the glass.  She was a capybara; she had been very nervous of him when he’d first started to come in but he was a fox of habit and she’d become accustomed to his routine and his presence.

“You’re slacking, mister Wilde,” grinned the waitress.  “You still have a mouthful of wine left and it’s six-thirty.”  Nick looked up with a smile of his own.

“Off day, I’m afraid, Michelle. Go ahead and top it off, thanks.”  He slid the glass to her, and she took it.

“Do you want your usual now, or will you wait?”  The question was accompanied by another sly grin and a wink, and he chuckled. 

“I’ll take it now, if you please.”  Michelle acknowledged and stepped away to fill his order with cheer, leaving Nick smiling.  He had come to this family restaurant four days a week every week for three years now, and that was part of why:  the staff was very friendly to all patrons, and the food was good.  It was strictly a vegetarian restaurant and Nick had never seen another predator inside, but that had never bothered the fox.  As a member of an omnivorous species, Nick was just as capable of enjoying the menu here as any prey.

Besides, they had the best blueberry wine he’d ever tasted.

His food and refilled wine came quickly, and he set his book aside—a Sherlock Holmes novel with a modern twist—to make room for the bowl and saucer that was brought to him.  It was a thick vegetable stew made in-house with more than half a dozen varieties of vegetable, and it came with a warm, fresh-made biscuit.  He ordered this stew every time he was here, and he took his time to enjoy it when he ate. 

Nick usually took a full half hour to leisurely make his way through the meal.  When he was younger, he had never felt the need to take his time with food and had inhaled what he was given when he was hungry.  The military made that mandatory and he found himself having to eat even more quickly than he was accustomed to, and it had affected him.  Now that he wasn’t part of the traditional military structure anymore, found himself taking the time to actually enjoy his food more often than not.  Unless it was blueberries.  He couldn’t help himself if it was blueberries.

Today, however, his meal was interrupted by the sound of a scuffle outside.  He heard a couple shouts, then the sounds of struggle, the meaty impacts of physical blows, and civilians reacting mostly with fear and horror.

So much for a pleasant meal.  Nick stood, dropped some bills to the table, and rushed out to assess the scene.  He wasn’t police, but as an Enforcer his authority superseded theirs and thus he could take over a scene if he felt it necessary.  When he saw what was happening, Nick hesitated just for a brief instant.

A dingo had cornered a female rabbit and was now beating the hell out of her, kicking her around like a rag doll.  There were bite wounds, defensive in nature, on the bunny’s arms, and she was curled in on herself.  A bleeding nose and puffy eye on the dingo’s part indicated she had tried—and failed—to defend herself.  It became quickly apparent why she had failed:  the dingo had in the paw opposite Nick a carbon-fiber defense baton, and he clearly knew how to use it, as he demonstrated by raising it across his body to strike the fallen bunny.

Nick caught the dingo’s wrist in his hand.

“I think you’ve made your point.”  Nick spoke quietly and the crowd of mostly prey around them drew in a collective uncertain breath as the dingo looked in outrage at Nick.  Seeing a fellow canid, the outrage turned to pleasure.

“Not so sure; want to help?” He tried to pull his paw back and Nick jerked the baton from him.  Then he cast the dingo aside, causing him to sprawl on the ground heavily.

“No, I don’t want to help,” snarled Nick.  “I want it all.  It’s _my_ prey now, dingo.”  Though they were roughly equal in size, Nick’s bearing showed martial arts training and a strong control of his body and the dingo apparently decided it wasn’t worth it.  He stammered for Nick to have the rabbit and scrambled away.

The crowd was now glaring at Nick.  He stuffed the baton in his belt and glanced over the prey that had gathered before speaking quietly to them.  “Break it up.  Go on, get back to your business.”  He pulled back the hem of his jacket to reveal the Enforcer badge clipped to his belt; this didn’t help the hostility toward him, but the crowd dispersed with angry muttering.  They knew he was going to take this rabbit back to his home and finish the job the dingo had started.

The thing was, hunting prey was illegal.  There was plenty of meat available in the shops from the cull, and killing a prey was still considered murder unless you were a specifically licensed Euth Physician working with a valid patient. This did not stop some predators from hunting, however.  Enforcers were especially believed to partake of the pastime, as the prey believed the secret police thought themselves above the law.

They weren’t wrong: most Enforcers did think that.

So when Nick knelt next to the rabbit, he expected the glare she shot him with her swelling, blood-shot violet eyes and wasn’t surprised when she cringed away from him.  Despite her obvious fear of him, he hesitated in picking her up only long enough to ascertain whether doing so would kill her; he couldn’t see any obvious trauma that belied moving, so he lifted her like a sack of potatoes and carried her to his car without a word.  When he arrived, he unceremoniously tossed her in the back seat and strapped her in before getting in the driver’s seat. 

She was only conscious long enough for him to glance back one last time.

The drive to his apartment building was consequently very quiet.  Nick himself drove without music and didn’t speak to the unconscious bunny, just spent the time thinking through what he knew about rabbit anatomy and hoping he could do the deed without too much mess or trouble.  Thankfully the building had underground parking and a card-activated elevator therein that went all the way up the building.  As his apartment was just around the corner from that elevator, he managed to get the rabbit to his apartment without witnesses.  Once inside, he dropped her carefully on the tile of his kitchen floor before fetching a small plastic canvas to lay over the table, the better to catch the blood.

She woke as he laid out his tools on the counter next to the table.  His paws, gloved, arranged the items carefully in the order he expected to need them, and paused in their careful maneuvers as the bunny gasped.

“I had hoped you wouldn’t wake so soon, Miss Hopps.”  Nick glanced over at her and brandished her ID when she displayed confusion.  “You had your wallet on you, with identification.  Always a good thing.  Good girl.  Since you are awake you can tell me what you were doing to provoke that poor dingo.”

She stared at him in insolence and clenched her jaws.  Nick tutted.

“C’mon, Carrots, talk to me.  We’re about to become intimately bound, it’s the least you can do.”  He smirked at her appalled look, but it certainly did the trick.

“Refrain from calling me Carrots.”  Her voice was steady and bold, but was also thickly colored with pain and she seemed to be breathing shallowly.

“Bunnies.  Defiant to the end.”  Nick lifted his first tool: a craft knife.  If he were in a hospital it’d be called a scalpel and it was nearly as sharp, but he’d purchased it at an art supply shop.  Hopps scrambled away from him as he approached her with it, and he had to grab her by the upper arm to prevent her from falling off the table.

“Stay _away_ , filthy pred, this is illegal, you _CAN’T!_ ” Her shouts didn’t deter him as he immobilized her with a paw around her throat.

“Relax, Fluff.  I’m not going to eat you.”  He used his other paw, carefully, to cut the shirt away from her torso, and when the fabric was free he set aside the knife.  She looked at him with undisguised confusion.  “Not today, anyway.”  Without waiting for a reply or asking for permission, he let go of her neck and started carefully prodding her chest and belly, noting when she gasped and winced.

“I was trained for advanced first aid in the army,” explained Nick quietly as he went.  “I’m no doctor, but I think your ribs are bruised.  Not broken, which is good.  You’ve got some deep bruising all over.  And those bite wounds on your arms need to be bandaged.”  He picked up his next tool, a cloth-wrapped wood dowel, and shoved it between her teeth, then lifted a bottle.

“This is going to hurt.” That was all the warning he gave her before splashing her wounded arms with the antiseptic fluid.  Her scream was muffled by the dowel, which she bit clean through, but it was over quickly as she collapsed limply on the table crying softly.  Nick took advantage of the cessation of resistance to begin bandaging the wounds on her arms with the cloth pads and gauze he laid on the counter with the other tools.  It wasn’t as neat as a doctor or even nurse might have managed, but it’d do.

Finally, he lifted his last two tools and offered them to her:  A pill, and a small shirt.

“Aleve and my niece’s shirt.  Please get off my table now.”  She hesitated a moment, but she did hop down off the table, don the pink shirt which was still a little big for her, and swallow the painkiller.  Nick proceeded to wrap up the canvas and pick up the rest of the items he’d brought in and walked out of the kitchen.

“Water in the fridge,” said the fox over his shoulder as he left.  He went to his bedroom, stashed the canvas in the closet (he’d need to remember to clean it of the bunny’s blood later) and put the other items in their various places before padding back to the kitchen to find the bunny sitting at the table, a bottle of water between her paws.  She looked, naturally, like she was in a lot of pain, and also like she was confused.  She looked up as he entered, piercing him with her gaze.

“Why did you do this?”  He didn’t answer at first, grabbing a water of his own from the refrigerator and sitting opposite her on the table.  He continued to not answer as he cracked open the bottle and took a pull from it.  Only then did he meet her gaze and speak.

“You were injured.  It looked much worse than it was, it turns out; you’ll have a rough few days, but you’ll be fine.”  She didn’t look satisfied.

“But why did you help someone like _me_?”

“I like women, Carrots.  I’m not that kind of guy.”  He smirked and she scowled.

“I meant prey, Fox.”  Her paws squeezed the unopened bottle.  “What do you want from me?”

“I know what you meant,” replied Nick.  “I hadn’t decided if I wanted to eat you or fuck you, so I brought you in and fixed you up.  I figured if I decided to eat you after all, I didn’t mind having wasted the gauze.”  He continued to smirk at her but his voice sounded serious, and it confused her: the mystification was plain on her face. 

“You w-want to f-fu…”  Her horror and bewilderment were plain in her voice and she trailed off.  Nick laughed and stood.

“Any time I can get it I will, right?  And the more it struggles, the better.  That’s what you prey say about us, isn’t it?  Foxes?  I’ll let you know when I’ve decided.  For now, you can stay here.  I have to run an errand, and then grab dinner since you interrupted my meal.  Don’t leave.  By the way, if you were curious…my name is Nicholas.  Nick Wilde.  Since I know your name, it’s only fair right?”  And with that…Nick Wilde was gone.

* * *

It was a stupid, simple mistake.  Judy had gotten off work a bit early—she worked at a florist’s shop run by an otter and his wife—and had decided to walk home to her flat in Sahara Square instead of taking the bus like usual.  And as she was walking through the light drizzle, she quite accidentally bumped into a canine.  Either the dingo had been in a bad mood already or he was simply disposed to aggression, Judy would never know, but his retribution was swift and decisive.  She’d gotten two good kicks to his face before he produced a baton and struck her so hard across the face with it that it stunned her.  The moment of daze was long enough for him to get the better of her, and she knew at that moment that she was going to die.

She remembered the fox coming out, though, and scaring the dingo off.  She hadn’t heard what he said to him, but he brandished a badge to get the crowd to leave and then took her.  When she woke again, she was on a table in what was presumably his kitchen.  When he betrayed her expectations she was left confused, angry, grateful, confused, in pain, and confused.  Why would a predator—especially a fox, and _especially_ an Enforcer—hesitate to kill her and consume her when he absolutely could get away with it?

Oh.  He wanted to rape her.  Well then.

But then he’d left, leaving her alone and with only the verbal warning to not leave.  Nothing was stopping her from walking out and finding a friend to take her in, or even going to the hospital like she probably should, but something made her hesitate.

Nick was so forward about his intentions toward her, so maddeningly confident and snarky…yet she couldn’t help but notice how tender his touch was.  As if she were his child, or his lover, his paws had felt her body with care and gentle concern.  Even when he restrained her with a paw around her throat, it was no more firm than necessary to keep her from running.  Was he restraining her because he didn’t want to have to chase her?  Or was it because he knew she was still bleeding freely and would hurt herself further in her panic?

She did not know.  And more puzzling still, this predator had not a scrap of flesh in his refrigerator.  There was not one steak, not one sausage or roast.  Instead it was filled with veggies, fruits, and an explosion of _blueberries_ of all things.  The restaurant he’d come out of to help her was even a vegetarian diner. 

Yes, Judy was confused.  But because she was confused and had a mystery before her, and because Judy Hopps hates not knowing things, she simply waited for his return.

* * *

When Nick returned, expecting to see her gone, she was passed out quietly on his couch, curled around a pillow.  He very gently and very carefully—so as to not wake her—moved her to his purple-clad bed and went to the living room to eat the meal he’d brought home.

The rain had stopped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...that happened. This chapter probably doesn't do too much by way of revealing anything, but it does hint at some things to come. I hope everyone enjoys it!


	3. A Softening Resolve

Nick woke early.  Before his alarm, even, which was still a surprise after spending years in the military.  He lay quietly, breathing softly and deeply, with his eyes closed, and let his limbs unknot themselves from the tight ball he’d been in moments before, stretching out to his full length over the course of a couple minutes.  It was dark in his room, which meant it was predawn, but he could detect some light through his eyelids, light that seemed to be coming from the doorway leading to the living room.  The air was pleasantly cool outside of his violet comforter, and smelled pleasantly of something resembling oak and maybe grass.

Nick frowned.  Then he opened his eyes.

Next to his head was crouched a bunny.  Her eyes gleamed crimson in the light from the living room, and she held a butcher’s knife in her paw.  When she tilted her head to the side, the light reflecting from her eyes shifted and the normal lavender color was returned to them; it didn’t help Nick’s rapidly-beating heart and increased respiration, though, because she still had one of his knives held casually in her right paw.

“That’s creepy, Carrots,” mumbled Nick groggily, the desire to go back to sleep warring with the adrenaline now in his system.  “And I never said you could borrow my knives, what the hell.”  He rubbed his eyes.

“I thought about killing you,” whispered the rabbit.  “When I woke up and explored your apartment a bit I saw you sleeping and it would have been easy.”  Her left paw absently rubbed at the gauze wrapping her right forearm.

Nick groaned behind his paws.  When he’d returned the previous evening, she’d been asleep on his couch.  He’d eaten his meal—a fruit medley with a side of nuts—and went to his office for the remainder of the evening to do some writing.  When bedtime had come, he’d simply left the rabbit on his couch, draping a thin throw blanket over her to keep her warm.

“Probably would have been very easy, Fluff, yes.”  Nick removed his arms from his face and peered at her sullenly in the dark.  “Wanna explain why you’re watching me sleep instead?  How long have you been there?”

“Three hours,” replied Judy flatly.  “I was going to kill you because you’re going to rape me or eat me or both…but I couldn’t go through with it.  Instead, I noticed some interesting things about you.  Why do you curl up in a ball like that?”

Nick stared at her for a beat, then rolled to his side, sat up, heaved a sigh, and walked over to his dresser.  He didn’t see her reaction but judging from the squeak she let out, she hadn’t expected to see Nick completely naked and comfortable with it.

“Why do your feet twitch when you sleep?”  Nick spoke without turning, pulling out underwear and jogging pants from his dresser.  “Why do bats wrap their wings around themselves when they sleep?  I just do, Carrots.  Always have.”  It was a lie, but only a small one and she didn’t need to hear his sob story.  Didn’t want to either, he’d bet.  Once he’d pulled on the trousers, leaving his chest bare, he turned to look at Judy.  She was peeking back after having clearly been covering her eyes.

“I don’t have any duty assignments today, assuming there’s not another terrorist attack, so I’ll be here most of the day.  Are you vegan?”  His gaze was carefully casual but his attention was only careful, and oh how interesting her reaction to his words were.  That slight scowl: she remembered he’s an enforcer and like most prey hated him for it; but she was trying to be polite, or perhaps trying to hide her emotions, the better to hide her true self from the predator who may or may not eat her.  Good girl.  That tightening around her eyes:  the terrorist attacks were a sensitive issue to her, and it threw her guard up.  How curious.  Finally, the tilting of her head and slight raising of an eyebrow:  she found his question of her diet confusing, or perhaps interesting.

“I’m a bunny, I’m a vegetarian.  But…no, I’m not vegan.”  She raised from her crouch and hopped off the bed, following Nick as he went out of the bedroom, through the living room, and into the kitchen.  She hopped onto a chair at the table and watched Nick as he took ingredients and spices out of the fridge and cupboard.

“What about tomatoes?  Can rabbits eat tomatoes?”  Nick doesn’t look up from the tomato he’s dicing.

“Sure,” said Judy.  “As long as it’s the fruit; the rest of the plant is rather toxic.”  Nick nods.  When he finished dicing the tomatoes, he set them aside and poured a generous helping of imitation egg in a bowl and beat them with salt and pepper, and then poured the eggs and tomatoes into a skillet with a handful of spinach. 

“What, no ham?  No rabbit?  Aren’t foxes predators, don’t you hate greens?”  Judy’s tone was derisive, but a quick glance showed Nick a genuine curiosity in her eyes.

Nick smiled at her, focusing back on the omelets in the making.  “Foxes are omnivores,” said the fox casually.  “We have a lot of food we like to eat.  Sure, red foxes tend to be more carnivorous, but we can survive on plants and fruits.  Actually, fruit is a fox favorite, you should see me with blueberries.  And heck, desert foxes are all about the plants.  I grew up with one, and he almost never ate meat.”

“Where’s the desert fox now?”  There was that tone of genuine curiosity; Nick was simultaneously pleased and irritated at the curiosity, as it would allow him to manipulate her…but also would press her to learn about him.

“Oh, he’s around.”  Nick’s voice held a bitter edge.  “Not in the army anymore though; medical discharge.  Purple heart, too, though Finnick was more insulted by the award than he was honored.”  Nick plated the breakfast, dishing out a generous helping for Judy and more for himself.  He poured two glasses of blueberry juice before serving, and sat across from Judy.

She closed her eyes and clasped her paws for a long moment before picking up a fork and beginning to eat.  Nick’s focused stare had turned to his plate by the time her eyes opened again, and they ate in silence, though it was broken twice by Nick refilling his glass of juice.

Judy had finished her breakfast ten minutes before Nick finally scraped the last bite of egg, spinach, and tomato from his plate and leisurely chewed it.  She watched him eat when she finished, no doubt picking up plenty of information.  Nick didn’t try to hide his pleasure at the meal, and he heaved a contented sigh when he was finished.

“How are those arms, Fluff?”  Nick grinned lazily at her over their cleared plates, and she looked down at the bandages.  They were somewhat stained, but the bleeding had stopped sometime last night; he’d need to change the bandages sometime this afternoon nonetheless.

“Sore,” replied Judy.  “Hot.  But I think they’ve already started to heal, which is weird.”  She rubbed the bandages a bit, frowning.

Nick shrugged and stood to collect and wash the dishes.  “Just don’t let the wounds get infected; that’s less meat for me to eat later.”  He could feel her gaze on his back as he quickly went through the few dishes they’d accumulated, but he ignored it.

“I could have killed you last night, Wilde.”  She spoke as he dried his paws on a hand towel, and was trying to look fierce.

“But you didn’t.”  Nick set the towel aside and wandered through the living room to the balcony.  The storm clouds from yesterday were still overhead, or they may have been new ones, but the heavy rain hadn’t returned:  it was instead a pleasant misting drizzle. 

Judy stood behind him in the doorway for a long time, watching the drizzle with him.  They both wondered the same thing:  Why hadn’t she used the knife?  And why was she still there?

* * *

Judy woke very near two in the morning to burning forearms, very sore muscles and ribs, and a very full bladder.  After finding the bathroom and using it, she wandered around the fox’s apartment.  He was clearly a single male, but his apartment was _immaculate_.  Even the mess her wounds had made was cleaned by the time she woke.  There was no dust on any surface, no trash or clothing on the floors, no molding food in the fridge.  Even the black wood coffee table in the living room had no cup rings, almost certainly due to the stack of cork coasters nestled surreptitiously in the middle of the table next to the television remote. Even his bathroom was show-room clean and smelling of lavender. 

He was absent when she woke, though he’d left a lamp on in the corner of the living room for her.  It took her only a few minutes of snooping around, though, to find his room where he was tightly curled in on himself under the purple blanket.  It was then that she went back to the kitchen, fetched a knife, and then invaded his room, climbing slowly and very carefully onto his bed, crouching over him in preparation for stabbing him in the throat.

But she hesitated.  It was because he looked so…defenseless.  The snarky grin was gone, replaced by a naked frown that hit Judy in all the wrong ways.  Instead of making her hate him or pity him, she suddenly wondered why he was so sad in sleep.  The tension of his class clown façade had been replaced in sleep by a tension of some different kind, some deep-seated trauma he could ignore during wakefulness but which ambushed him in the haven that was slumber.  It awakened a part of Judy that had been hibernating for many years, replaced by her need to bring down the preds.

She wanted to help him. 

That realization led her to studying him in his sleep like a scientist might study some poor, helpless creature in a habitat.  _Or,_ whispered a less cynical part of her, _like a woman would study a lover._

She shook the thought away.  She hated predators, of course.  Especially foxes.  And she was going to kill this fox while he was curled up so defensively in sleep, proving to him that he wasn’t safe even in his own bed.

  
Yep.  Definitely gonna kill him.  Any minute now.  Just as soon as he stopped looking so sad, damn it.  Any minute.

“Any minute” turned into the better part of three hours, and he’d woken up before she got up the motivation.  It was a fascinating process.  He didn’t even open his eyes at first.  His breathing went from shallow and regular to deep and irregular, and he relaxed out of the ball he’d clenched himself in.  Over the course of nearly fifteen minutes, Judy crouched over Nick and watched his face slowly go from that sad, sad expression to a mask of contentedness and cynicism blending somehow seamlessly.

When finally he opened his eyes with that confused frown, Judy became entranced with his eyes.  She hadn’t noticed yesterday, but the emerald green eyes were beautiful.  It threw her off enough that she almost admitted it to him when he spoke to her. 

“I thought about killing you.”  _Your eyes are gorgeous._   It was a narrow save.  “When I woke up and explored your apartment a bit I saw you sleeping and it would have been easy.”  _You’re so sad when you sleep and now I want to pick up the pieces and fix you._

She should have just stabbed him without looking and been done with it.  The rest of the morning was no less surreal, and she couldn’t help but feel like it was incredibly domestic as he cooked them breakfast.  The omelet ended up being incredible and she ate every bit of it; she might have been concerned about the possibility of poisoning, but she watched him prepare the food.  Besides, poisoning her would ruin her meat, right?

Breakfast was a silent affair, and she learned a few things.  First, Nick Wilde was definitely a foodie.  He couldn’t not be with how he savored literally every bite he took, completely engrossing himself in the experience including sighs and quiet moans of pleasure.  Second, he wasn’t exaggerating when he’d claimed he loved blueberries if his inhaling the juice was any indication.  Seriously, he went through three tall glasses during the one meal.

Breakfast ended and Nick migrated to the balcony where a fine mist was coming down.  Judy followed him; at first she watched the fox.  He stood at the railing of the balcony, his paws resting on the rail, leaning into it.  He was still bare-chested, the fur along his shoulders and back a bit knotted and clumped from sleep, and his tail drifted idly from side to side. Nick was quiet and pensive.  Soon, though, she found herself getting pensive along with him.  The rain, such that it was, wasn’t hard enough to drive thoughts from her mind and she kept going back to that moment when she crouched over him with the knife.  She’d hesitated, and that was a dangerous thing.  Usually, her intuition drove her to act in her own safety but this time…

Maybe she was slipping.  She’d stayed overnight in a fox’s den, had even committed the sin of falling asleep there, and all while having the option to leave.  It baffled her.  She wasn’t _safe_ here.  He’d admitted that he was going to kill her, and he was a fox.  Untrustworthy, bloodthirsty, sly.  His innocuous questions and casual friendly comments were nothing more than tools to lure her to a false sense of safety so she’d fight less when he finally struck.  She knew this like she knew the sun would rise, and yet she’d stayed anyway, curiosity getting the better of her.

She was just learning about her enemy.  That’s all she was doing.  That made sense.

The sun rose, brightening the cloudy horizon from a stormy darkness to a stormy grey, and by the time Judy had come to the conclusion that she was gathering intelligence it was fully morning.  This is when she quietly padded across the room and snuck out the door.  If Nick noticed her flee, he gave no sign.

The drizzle was very cool against her fur.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a bit longer to get to than I was strictly comfortable with, but here it is at last! Real life is still busy, I'm afraid. I'm trying to balance things, guys, promise! I hope you enjoy this latest chapter, and I encourage comments!


	4. A Gathering of Intelligence

The drizzle was cool against Nick’s face, drifting as it was into his balcony.  It was soothing, calming, and would have been a great boon had he been emotional.  Just now, though, Nick was perfectly level-headed and contemplating the events of the morning.  He was perfectly aware of Judy coming up behind him, heard her stop in the doorway and watch him, and he was not afraid.  He knew somehow that she wouldn’t attack him now; if she truly intended to, she would have done it before he woke.

 _Why_ she had failed to kill him, however, was uncertain.  She had no reason to hesitate.  She struck him as someone who didn’t care about predator law enforcement, would break the law if it meant her own safety, and she had no real reason to believe he wouldn’t kill her eventually.  She was an enigma, and he wasn’t sure he could solve the puzzle.  He’d certainly try, though.

She slipped away.  He didn’t hear her leave so much as feel her absence, and noticed her scent fading.  When the front door quietly clicked shut, Nick turned to look back at the empty apartment.  Somehow, it seemed a bit colder now that Judy had gone.  No matter; he had plans today, and it would not do to become distracted.  Nick wandered, still shirtless, to his office, clicked on the light, and sat at his desk.  The computer came on with no problems and he opened the latest document in his favorite word processing program, ready to put in a few hours of writing.  Instead, he stared blankly at the words for a long few minutes.  Finally, Nick clicked out of his ongoing project, opened a new document, and started something new.

_Violet eyes, glittering with intelligence beyond their years…._

He typed in frenzy for hours before finally stopping for lunch sometime in mid-afternoon.

It was only when his focus on the work waned and he stepped away from the computer to get food that the events of this morning caught up with him.  It occurred to him that the bunny had invaded the sanctuary of his room, armed, and had intended to kill him.

And he’d _bitched at her._

What the hell was he thinking?!  His life was in danger.  It was so completely inappropriate to have reacted how he did.

“I need a drink,” Nick said to nobody in particular.  Then, he walked out of his apartment and drove around a bit, looking for a nice looking drinking establishment.  After a bit, he found a promising one called The Watering Hole in downtown.  Upon entering, Nick discovered it was also something of a restaurant, explaining why it was open so early.  He made his way through the booths and tables to the bar proper and took a seat, gesturing to the wildebeest bartender, ordering a scotch that he knocked back immediately before getting a second to sip on.

“So who is she?”  The deep voice came from behind Nick, and a moment later a tiny tan form climbed atop the bar stool next to him.

“Hey Finnick.  Didn’t expect to see you here.  Who’s who?”  Nick sipped the scotch.

“Don’t fuck with me Nick.”  Finnick gestured at the bartender as he spoke; apparently, he was a regular, because a drink was brought to him without a word exchanged.  “Last time you drank scotch, it was because you got too close to a vixen and didn’t know what to do.”

“It’s nobody.”  Nick shook his head.  “Met someone on the job and don’t know what to make of her, that’s all.”

“Pft.  Right.”  Finnick scoffed and took a mouthful of his drink.  “And that’s why you smell like her.”  Nick shot a look at him, frowning.  “Oh don’t look at me like that, you don’t smell like sex.  Just like female.  Not a scent I recognize, either.  So what’s so confusing about this female?”

“She threatened to kill me, actually.”  Nick sipped his drink again and looked away.  “Had a knife and everything, and after I patched up some wounds she suffered in an accident.”

“…and that scared you?  Big Bad Nick?” 

“No, that’s the thing.”  Nick looked back at the desert fox.  “It didn’t scare me.  It didn’t even give me pause.  I just…bitched at her about it.  But once she left, I couldn’t stop thinking about her, about how stupid it was that I didn’t take her seriously.  I just didn’t know how to interpret it, is all.”  There’s a long pause between the two of them as Nick fell silent and Finnick apparently gathered his thoughts.

“Right.  Where is she now?”  Finnick’s question was carefully spoken and the desert fox didn’t look over at him.  Nick shrugged and answered without thinking.

“At work.  A bit north of here, why?”  Now Finnick looked over at Nick, an eyebrow raised.

“She threatened to kill you and then told you where she worked and what time she goes in?”

“Of course not,” said Nick incredulously.

“Then how did you know?”  Finnick’s gaze bored into Nick, and the red fox faltered, frowned.  Fin had a point…how had he known that?  He shouldn’t, but somehow…it was just understood.  Judy was north of where Nick was right now, and he knew that with a certainty  he couldn’t explain.

“You know what that is, Nick.”  The deep voice was heavy with meaning, and Nick looked away.

“You’re wrong, Fin.  I love you, you’re my best friend, but you’re wrong this time.”  Nick knocked back the last of his scotch.

“Keep denying it, Nick.  That’s real healthy.  See you ‘round, I got shit to do.”  The desert fox finished his own drink, slapped down a payment, and hopped down to scamper away, leaving Nick sitting alone with thoughts better left for theologians.  He wasn’t left to his thoughts for long, though, because he received a call from Fangmeyer.  Nick answered with his standard clipped greeting.

 _“Afternoon, boss.  I’ve got news from forensics about that flower, want to meet me at the ZPD?”_ Fang sounded a bit strained, which concerned Wilde.

“Yeah.  I’m leaving now, meet you there.”  He hung up, paid his tab, and left.

Wilde had been to the ZPD a couple times before, and he never tired of it.  The building was massive and beautifully designed.  He entered without hesitation and found Fangmeyer talking to the cheetah at the reception desk.  Wilde’s cleared throat drew her attention.

“—and I just had to correct him, poor thing…oh hey, Lieutenant.  Sorry Clawhauser, I’ll finish later.”  She took Wilde aside.

“Hey boss.  So there was very little found, but the guys in the lab did find something.  This way.”  The tigress escorted him deeper into the ZPD than he’d been before, right down into the basement where the forensics team’s lab was located.  A wolf in a lab coat greeted them and handed Wilde a report with a whole lot of information he had no idea how to interpret.

“You must be Enforcer Wilde,” the wolf said.  “Here.  Jar was a standard glass jar, a preserves container originally we think, and it had no prints.  Could mean gloves were worn, could mean the perpetrator didn’t have paw pads.  We also didn’t find oil from fur either, so gloves are indicated anyway.”  He handed Wilde another report.  “The flower was a _Midnicampum holicithias_ , a type of common Night howler.  It’s a Class C substance which means it’s controlled, but it’s very common as a farming implement, used as an insecticide.”

“Okay.”  Wilde looked at the reports with a raised eyebrow.  “What can you tell us about that?  Can you tell where it comes from?”

“Sure.”  The wolf nodded.  “Absolutely.  If it was a registered strain.  This particular flower, while definitely _Midnicampum holicithias_ , does not have the typical genetic markers we use to track strains for legal reasons; that probably means this particular flower was bred from parent flowers of multiple sources, probably back several generations.  To be clear, this is very illegal behavior and no, we can’t trace the lineage quickly.  If we started now, we might have a hypothesis for you this time next month.  If we’re lucky.”

“So…we’ve got nothing.”  Nick scowled.

“Not necessarily.”  The wolf handed Wilde a third report and an evidence bag.  “We found a single strand of fur on the flower.  Unfortunately it didn’t contain a follicle so we couldn’t run DNA, but we could determine the species.  _Oryctolagus cuniculus_.” 

Wilde gave him a blank look.  The wolf sighed.

“Common Burrow Rabbit, Enforcer.  Your Azure is a rabbit.  With white or grey fur, at that.  That’s probably why he had access to the _Midnicampum holicithias_ in the first place, many bunny farmers use it to insect-proof their crops.”

Wilde frowned and nodded.  “A grey or white bunny.  A Burrow bunny at that…probably from Podunk or Bunny Burrow, most Burrow Rabbits are.  Thanks, Doc.”  Wilde offered his paw, shook the wolf’s paw, and then turned to leave with Fang.

“So a Burrow bunny, then,” said Wilde as he walked.  “Why the night howler, though?  It’s supposed to be his signature, his calling card, but what does it mean?”

“I couldn’t say, Wilde,” responded the tigress.  “I know nothing about plant symbology.  Though I do know a guy who might be able to help.”  She pauses to write down an address on a business card and passed it to Wilde.  “Guy named Otterton, he owns a florist’s shop.  He did my brother’s wedding.”  Nick nodded and looked at the address.

“Thanks, Fang.  I’m gonna check this out right now while it’s fresh on my mind.  You’re off the hook, I’ll see you Monday.”  They parted ways at the outer doors, Wilde to his car and Fangmeyer to…wherever Fangmeyer went when she was off duty. 

It didn’t take Enforcer Wilde long to find the shop, right on the border between downtown and the Rainforest District.  It was a quaint little place that smelled strongly, naturally, of flowers.  He entered and headed straight back to the checkout counter along the back wall, but he watched the flowers around him as he went.  He saw dozens of breeds, some fragrant, all beautiful.

“Good afternoon.  Can I help yo-u….”  A startlingly familiar voice, trailing off at the end, drew Wilde’s attention back to the counter he was approaching, and he found himself staring straight at those bright purple eyes with his mouth hanging open.

“Ahem…”  Wilde recovered himself after a moment and grinned.  “Well, you seem to just pop up everywhere.”

 

* * *

 

By the time Judy was at street level, she was sprinting.  It was a strange thing:  the further down the apartment building she got, the faster her tiny heart beat, the more she shook as if with nerves.  She was in a blind panic once she hit the street, all that fear and anxiety she _should_ have felt in Nick’s presence caught up with her.  It was as if there was some kind of emotional anesthetic infecting her and it was beginning to wear off.

She fled the apartment building on foot, heading due north toward the Rainforest District.  Her home was in fact not in Rainforest District, it was north even of that in the meadowlands district, but by the time she stopped running, winded, a stitch in her side and her bruises and cuts aching, she didn’t care where she was.  Only that she was away from the fox.  She was still in downtown by the time her body made her stop running, and she collapsed against a wall, sliding into a seated position gasping for breath and struggling not to cry.

How stupid had she been?  She _slept in a fox den_.  That wasn’t courage, that was stupidity.  And now that it had caught up with her, the horror of the risk she’d taken brought the tears on.  If she had been more aware of her surroundings she would have noticed the animals around her avoiding looking at her, crossing the street to avoid her, generally shunning the very public display of terror and pain.  But she was only aware of the quaking of her body, the pounding of her heart, the pulsing of adrenaline, and the burning of flowing tears, all from twelve hours of built up fear being released at once.

Eventually she calmed enough to realize she needed to get home to bathe and change before work.  So she stood and jogged her way to the nearest train station to catch a ride to her apartment in the meadowlands.

It was a quaint place.  A bunny-owned building, the City Warrens were apartments catering to lapines and other small burrowing animals.  It was only one story outside, but the place descended six stories into the ground.  Judy’s apartment was on level two, in one corner.  As a corner apartment she had a bit more room than other tenants, but it was still built for a rabbit so that wasn’t saying much.  One small bedroom, a bathroom, a kitchenette, and a living room was home.

The shower was quick, and when she was done she replaced the bandaging on her forearms.  Her job was less neat and less expert than the fox’s, but it would do the job.  Once that was done, she dressed in her work uniform and left to catch the train again, stopping long enough to call Mr. Otterton to tell him she’d be a little late. 

The Ottertons were predators, but they didn’t act like it.  They were very kind people, and very understanding, and when she got there all she had to do was tell her boss that she’d had an accident the previous day and a panic attack today that ensured she was late.

“Oh, poor dear.”  Otterton fussed a bit with her bandages.  “Don’t you worry any, entirely understandable.  I’ll have you run the register today, light duty.  Don’t want to strain you.”  He patted her cheek and smiled.  Judy returned the smile and got to work. 

It was noon on a Saturday, so it wasn’t terribly busy.  Judy ended up busying herself for most of the afternoon, therefore, with doodling on a pad of paper behind the register.  During that time only two people came in, and of those two one was only looking at prices.  It was a very dull shift.

Until, that is, around three-thirty.  Judy had dropped her pencil, so she bent down to pick it up as the door jingled, signaling a customer entering.  As she stood back up, she started to greet the customer, only to trail off as she found herself face to face with those gorgeous emerald eyes.  Nick looked as shocked to see her as she was to see him, but he recovered first, clearing his throat and shooting her a sly grin.

“Well, you seem to just pop up everywhere.”  He leaned on the counter between them.  Something inside Judy screamed: _fox! It’s a fox!  It’s THE fox, he marked you as his prey! RUN!_   But that voice was muted and distant, buried under some unnamed force.  The adrenaline Judy should have felt, had indeed felt earlier on her way home, didn’t come, held at bay again by some mysterious force.

“Um,” said Judy cleverly.  “Hello again, Slick Nick.  Can I help you?”  Seeing the brightening of his gaze as she said his name sent a thrill of adrenaline through her.  It felt different from the usual fear reaction…but it was definitely fear.  What else could it be?

“Actually,” said Nick, his grin falling away to be replaced with a business-like expression, “I need to speak to Mr. Otterton, I’m told he owns this shop and I need a consultation.”  It seemed her boss was nearby, because he came out of the back a moment later, before Judy could call for him. 

“I’m Otterton,” said the otter, passing the bunny who retreated to the doorway leading to the back room.  She stopped to watch and listen as the fox’s attention turned to the otter.  “You can call me Emmet.”

“Good afternoon, Emmet.”  The fox straightened up from his lean on the counter, speaking smoothly.  “I’m Enforcer Nicholas Wilde, and I’m conducting an investigation into the terrorist attacks that have been hitting the gates along the wall of city center.  What can you tell me about night howlers?” 

“Night howlers?”  Otterton considered.  “Hmm.  Well, it’s a controlled botanical used primarily in farming.  They are mildly toxic with a temporary psychotic-aggressive effect, which is why they’re classified Class C.  I have a license to sell them, and my strain is registered with the ZPD.  Why do you ask?  Have my flowers been involved?”

Nick shakes his head.  “Not at all.  At the scene of the latest attack, and at several others, the ringleader of the terrorist faction left a single blossom as a calling card.  I’m interested in the symbology of that; why would she do that?”

“She?  You know who it is?”  Otterton sounded surprised.

“No, but it’s a flower.  A male would leave a playing card, a bullet cartridge, something like that.  Flower symbology is very feminine.  I assumed female.  About that symbology?”

“Right, sorry.”  Otterton shifted his position, leaning on the counter casually.  “Mostly, the blossom is associated with aggression, to be honest.  Given its effects as an insecticide and the hostility of those drugged with it, I’d say that leaving it at the site of a terrorist attack would signify a threat.  A way of saying ‘I’m coming for you.  You have an enemy, and she is feral.’  Were there many deaths in these attacks?  The news is very spare with details.” 

Nick hesitated; Judy was sure he was deciding how much he could reveal.

“Actually, until yesterday morning, there had been no deaths at all.  Mostly it was stolen or destroyed supplies, hacked terminals and stolen intelligence; until yesterday, the worst we got was tranquilized, perhaps a broken limb or two.”  Otterton stood straight again, surprise evident.

“Let me guess…all these attacks were against the army directly?  No civilians?  Yes…that might change things a bit.  In that case, this person is definitely sending a message but not to Zootopia or to predators in general.  She’s sending a message to you.  To the army itself.  ‘We will not accept you; you have an enemy and she has teeth.  Flee or be destroyed.’  A potent talisman indeed.”

“You got all that from a single flower?”  Nick looked impressed.  Otterton chuckled.

“I’ve been doing this a long time, Enforcer.  It’s like the tarot.  The symbology is nuanced and subtle, but with a trained eye you can see a great deal.  Your enemy means to destroy you, Enforcer Wilde.  And she will stop at nothing to do it.”

Nick is silent for a long moment, staring at Otterton, and then his gaze flicks over to lock onto Judy’s.

“Then I shall have to tread carefully,” he said gravely, his gaze still locked on Judy.  Then he looked back to Otterton and smiled.  “Thank you so much, Emmet.  You’ve helped a great deal.  Have a good afternoon.”  Without another word, Nick Wilde left.  In the moments after his departure, Judy felt the fear of his arrival catch up to her, though it was much less debilitating the first time.

Once he was sure the fox was well away, Mr. Otterton looked to Judy and put a hand on her shoulder.

“How was that, Judy?” 

“Truthful.  You told him precisely what you told me, and I think you delivered it quite well.”

“I’m sorry.”  Otterton shook his head.  “I wish there had been a way to avoid that.”

“Avoid it?”  Judy looked him in the eye, determination burning away the residual fear.  “I leave those flowers as a message, Mr. Otterton.  It’s a useless message if they don’t know what it says.  You wanted to do your part in this war?  You’ve done it.  You helped deliver my message.”

Otterton nodded and smiled ruefully.  “As you say, dear.  What now?  What do we do next time?"

“Next time?”  Judy stepped around him and picked up her pad of paper with the doodles…battle plans, disguised as idle drawings.  Outside, the drizzle had swelled into a downpour, sending animals running for cover.

“Next time, we draw the line.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More questions answered, and more questions raised! Tensions are beginning to rise, aren't they? I hope you all enjoy this new chapter, and look forward for more to come!


	5. A Line is Drawn

Monday morning dawned bright.  The storm clouds that had been overhead showering the city in precipitation for a week were gone, leaving a crystal-clear blue sky, the sun bright and hot in the late spring.  Most of Zootopia was rejoicing at the return of the sun, but Enforcer Nicholas Wilde was cursing the Great Burning Daystar.  As it was indeed Monday, he had duties to attend to:  people to surreptitiously interview, probing for possible breaches of the law; informants to heckle and pay; businesses flagged by his team and informants to inspect.  He’d give his superior Nedry any important information and Nedry would file it all away in whatever form he did, and that’s where Nick’s accountability would end.  It was the way of things for him, had been since he was taken from the military proper and made an agent of the Predation Enforcement Agency. 

Wilde was dressed in his usual on-duty attire:  a three-piece black-on-black-on-black cotton suit.  The slacks, jacket, and tie were true black and the shirt was jet, his badge clipped to his belt and a sidearm nestled in a purpose-tailored pocket inside his jacket.  Some would say the suit and his fur didn’t go well together, but Wilde liked how he looked.  So did Fangmeyer, judging from the tigress’s appreciative glance when she picked him up that morning.

“Morning, Boss,” Fangmeyer said, passing him a coffee.  He sipped it appreciatively after getting seated, waving a good morning.

“So what do we have?”  He glanced to the rear seats to find two more members of his team:  the wolf called Wolford, and the lion named Delgato.  They were both eating breakfast sandwiches, fried pork on biscuits, and Wilde quickly looked forward again.  He’d had breakfast before dressing to leave as he always had, which is why they hadn’t offered him a sandwich:  his whole team knew he was very selective about the food he ate and had long since stopped being offended by it.

“One of my informants came through,” said Delgato after swallowing his mouthful of pork and biscuit.  “The Euth Clinic over on Walnut apparently has some visitors overnight, my guy did some snooping and he thinks it’s a group of old prey, all past cull.  I thought we might go inspect the place first thing.”

Wilde groaned internally, and sighed.  “Yeah,” muttered the fox.  “Better take care of that.  Damn I hope there’s nobody there.  I hate the paperwork.”

“Better than the cops, Wilde,” replied Wolford.  “At least we only have to account for who was involved and who’s left alive.  The police have to record every little detail.”  Wilde had to concede the point.  It was a benefit of being an Enforcer:  no transparency.

“Well, we’ll do that first thing.”  Wilde took a gulp of coffee as Fangmeyer delicately redirected her tiger-sized sedan along another street.  “Meeting Chuck there?”  Fangmeyer replied in the affirmative.  Chuck—or Charlene Wilcox, as her ID card claimed, though she’d maul you if you called her that—was the final member of Wilde’s team.  She was an ocelot, taller than most of her kin and fiercely carnivorous.  Chuck was indeed such a connoisseur of flesh that it frightened the red fox more than he was willing to admit, and he’d always made a point of it to watch her more carefully than anyone else on the team.

Wilde had never before entered a Euth clinic, but they were very unassuming from the outside.  The one on Walnut was a low-slung building with a plain brown façade and the words _Faith Eternal Euthanasia Clinic_ in large lettering over the entrance.  Fangmeyer parked near the street next to where the thin ocelot was waiting for them, finishing up her own breakfast while leaning casually on a sign pole.  Where Wilde wore a formal suit and the other three wore outfits better defined as business casual, Chuck was wearing full goth gear, all black latex and buckles and straps.  The thing Wilde had always found most interesting about her usual get-up was that it looked so very natural on her.

“So how are we doing this then?”  The ocelot stood off the pole as the team exited the car and gathered around her.  “Going in and playing bad guy, or what?”

“You would want to go that route.”  Wilde shook his head with a grin.  “No, I was thinking of going the exact opposite way with it:  go in and be polite and as kind as possible.  Probably throw them off guard and make any confrontation a bit easier.  Fang, I want you and Wolford to cover the exits while Delgato and Chuck and I go inside.  We’ll radio if we need support.”   With no protest, the tiger and wolf moved to take positions and the remaining three entered the clinic without hesitation.

The waiting room was pleasant.  Like any clinic waiting room, it was quiet and had comfortable seats and old magazines.  At this hour, barely after eight in the morning, there were few people waiting, just two families: a buffalo family and an antelope family.  They all eyed Wilde and his team suspiciously as the predators entered, but the fox gave them no second glance.  His eyes were trained on the receptionist, a beaver, who greeted them warmly as they approached.

“I’m agent Nick Wilde,” began the fox quietly, flashing his badge, “and these are my colleagues agents Delgato and Wilcox.  I’d like to speak to the doctor in charge as soon as possible; we’re performing a standard inspection of the premises.”  The receptionist was quite good, Wilde had to give her that.  He almost missed the alarm she carefully hid behind a plastic smile and a timid “of course, right this way.”  As she led them into the rear of the clinic, he glanced at the others to find that they too had noticed and were on alert.

“Just in here, please,” said the receptionist, ushering them into an examination room.  “Doctor Ford will be along as soon as he’s finished with his current patient.”  She left, closing the door behind her.

“They have regular exam rooms in here?”  Chuck was looking around at the contents of the room with what could have been disdain.  “It’s a euthanasia clinic, what’s the point of this?”  Wilde  treated it like a rhetorical question.

“She’s gone to warn the doctor.”  Wilde went to the door to peek out, finding the coast was clear.  “I’d like to find him before he’s had a chance to do anything.  Let’s go.”  He lied.  In point of fact, Wilde had just lied entirely:  he wanted nothing more than to let the good doctor do whatever he needed to in plenty of time, but he had a job to do.

It took no time for the trio to locate the doctor’s office, where the receptionist was speaking to him in hushed tones.  He looked up as she finished talking just in time for the enforcers to walk into the room.  It was another examination room, and other than the beaver receptionist and elk doctor, the only occupant was one older rabbit, who looked on with surprise.

“O-officers,” stammered the receptionist, “I thought I said—”

“Don’t,” interrupted Wilcox.  “You can leave.  Doctor, if you’d step into the hall with us.”

The doctor towered over the ocelot, but with the way she spoke to him and turned her back to go into the hall, one would think she were so much larger.  The doctor, though, didn’t even hesitate to fix the agents—and Wilcox specifically by proximity—with a hard glare before following them into the hall. 

“This is highly irregular, officers,” said Doctor Ford once he shut the examination room.  “Inspections are usually scheduled through the department of labor a week ahead of time.  Officers of the DoL should know better than to come here unannounced.”

“Ah.  I think there’s been a misunderstanding.”  Wilde pulled his badge and showed the elk, whose eyes widened with alarm.  “We’re not DoL agents, we’re PEA.  Enforcement agents.  We don’t have to announce ourselves at all.  Tell us about your patient there, is he scheduled for departure?”

“No.”  The elk shook his head, his voice clipped and hard.  “He’s thirty-nine a week ago, came in for his mandatory physical.”

“Right.”  Wilde nodded.  “And rabbits, if I’m not mistaken, go in for departure at forty?  Yes.  Well, Doctor Ford, I think your patient can wait a few more minutes.  We shouldn’t be long.  Show us the facility, please.”

The inspection began very cursory, starting as a glance around exam rooms.  Then they progressed to the so-called Departure Rooms, where the actual euthanasia took place; there were three at this clinic, each featuring a comfortable looking padded table, a machine which would administer a medical cocktail designed to kill painlessly and without spoiling the meat, and an observation room adjacent for any family who may want to watch the proceedings.  It was here that Wilde’s impassionate expression began to turn into a frown.

The next place they inspected was the dressing rooms.  These were where the deceased prey were brought following the euthanasia procedure to be “dressed.”  That is, the body was taken apart, the flesh removed and sent along to the next step in the process where it would be cut and packaged and prepped to be shipped to shops.  Anything left that was not edible flesh would be cremated on-site and the ashes given to the family.

It was a testament to the power of the masses that predators were forced to work the dressing and packing procedures.  Prey mammals had refused outright to do it, forcing predators to step in to do the job.

Wilde went through all these rooms with a grim expression, contrasted by Chuck’s fascinated one.  When they got to the dressing room, Wilde outright frowned; seeing the cold steel table with razor sharp knives of various shapes laid out next to it made him inexplicably think about Judy Hopps.  He couldn’t help but to picture her here, on this table.  In fact, she would one day be here, when she turned forty and the government determined she was old enough to no longer be necessary in the work force.  As a rabbit, she would be taken twenty or thirty years earlier than most prey were; it was because there were so many rabbits in each family that the government had decided they wouldn’t be needed for as long.

The thought of her being in this room turned his stomach.  It was wrong.

Finally they were shown through the end of the line and brought to the doctor’s personal office.

“That’s all we have,” said the doctor.  “Are you satisfied?”

“No,” said Delgato flatly.  “I took the liberty of looking up the building in municipal records before we came.  You have a basement that we were never shown.”

The doctor was silent for a beat too long.  “…there’s nothing in the basement of any importance.”

Wilde sighed.  “Don’t make this any harder than it needs to be, Doctor Ford.  Show us the basement.  Now, please.”  The two stared at each other for a long moment before the doctor conceded.  He led them to a door marked “Janitor Supplies,” unlocked it, and opened it to show a staircase leading down. 

Delgato took the lead, followed by Wilde and then Chuck, with the doctor bringing up the rear.  When they reached the bottom, Delgato whistled.

“Well, you _are_ in trouble,” he said.  Wilde shortly saw why:  the basement was taken up by a communal living space housing a crowd of old prey mammals.  Wilde cursed silently to himself and started counting.

“Doctor Ford,” said Wilde a moment later, “you’re under arrest on thirty-one counts of felony harboring of cull-age mammals.  Delgato, make a call, get a crew here to take care of these mammals.”

“I couldn’t just kill them, fox,” said the doctor.  “I saved as many as I could.  Which is more than I can say for _you_.”

“Stop talking,” said Chuck.  “Actually…don’t.  Keep talking.  I really rather like elk steak, give me an excuse.”  The ocelot’s grin was predatory, and it earned a glare from the doctor.

“What will happen to them?” asked the doctor to Chuck.  He opened his mouth to continue, his expression hostile, but Wilde cut him off.

“They’ll be collected by a team of police officers and escorted to another Euth Clinic where they’ll be euthanized like the law says they should have been a long time ago.  Turn around, you’re under arrest.”  Wilde zip-tied the doctor’s hooves together as Delgato hung up his cell phone.

“There’s a bus on the way, Wilde,” said Delgato.

“Why are we arresting him?”  Chuck frowned at Wilde, looking put out.  “We could just make him disappear.”

“Can it, Wilcox,” snapped Wilde.  “Just get him upstairs.  And get Wolford and Fang to help the police get these mammals situated.”  He paused long enough to look at the thirty-one elderly mammals in the basement.  They were sitting on chairs and cots watching the proceedings with various levels of comprehension.  After a moment of reflection, Wilde turned and walked back up the stairs.

On his way through the waiting room, Wilde noticed the television, which was showing news, flicker and the picture went blank.  He paused and looked over to it.  The feed was replaced with an image:  A stylized night howler over a black background.  After only a moment, a heavily modulated voice came on.

“ _This is a message for the predator army._ ”

 

* * *

 

Judy spent the weekend coordinating with her people.  The display they had planned would occur Monday morning, and she went through the plan with all those involved over and over again, making sure it would go of perfectly.  Maybe she was a little obsessive, but it had to work.  There was no other choice.

Since they’d been actively resisting, they’d done two types of jobs.  Disruption jobs were the most common and frankly the easiest; that was when they stole or destroyed the supply convoys going to the various military barracks situated around the city, or prevented military displays and parades from happening through sabotaging electronics and such.  Then there were the other jobs, jobs where they raided compounds or convoys to learn intelligence about troop movements and agent placement and gather information and equipment they’d need later…such as credentials to gain access to all the major television broadcast studios in the city, and the manpower and hardware to shoot a video and have it play on every channel in Zootopia.

They had a makeshift studio all set up.  Judy herself would speak and the software would modulate her voice into something nobody would recognize as hers, and their message would be sent across the city.  It was in that recording booth that she sat on Monday morning, waiting for her signal, her heart beating hard in nervous anticipation.

“You look nervous.”  Emmet Otterton put a hand on her shoulder and smiled at her.

“I am.  I’m scared I’ll screw it up.”  She took a deep breath to steady herself.

“I’m not.  Only thing I’m concerned about is whether that fox enforcer is going to find us.  I don’t like the way he looked at you before he left the other day.”  Otterton’s expression shifted to one that matched the seriousness of his concern, but Judy shook her head.

“He’s across the city right now,” she said without thinking.  “Not looking for us at all.”  _And he is_ really _unhappy right now_ , she thought to herself.

“Oh.”  Otterton looked surprised.  “I didn’t realize you had someone watching him.  That’s a smart precaution.”

“Oh I didn’t…” began Judy, before stopping herself.  She blinked.  _How did I know his disposition?  I can’t but I’m so sure of it._   “I…didn’t…I didn’t think it would hurt,” she continued slowly, to cover herself.  Before Otterton could respond, a gopher stuck his head in the booth.

“You’re on in ten, Judy.  Eight, seven, six…”

Judy took a deep breath as Otterton made his way out and the gopher counted down silently for her.  Then…the microphone clicked on.

“This is a message for the predator army,” said Judy to the world.  “You have been here for ten years, treating Zootopia as your personal city-state.  Your experiment to see if your regime can work on a greater scale.  We know this.  We know you plan to march to war again ere long to expand your doctrine of terror.  We have seen it.  We have planned for it, and we have studied you.

“You brought the entire force of your military here ten years ago.  Outside the municipal borders of Zootopia, the Predation Coalition has virtually no presence, and our streets have become bloated with you.  The natural ratio of predator to prey is one in ten.  Zootopia has four times that, because the army came here.

“We’ve resisted you.  Privately, publically.  We staged protests.  When we were shot down in the streets for it, we put out blogs expressing our distaste.  Circulated petitions.  When you imprisoned us for it, we took to the underground.  Every time you find us, we evolve.  Every time you stamp us out, we regrow.  We are the weeds in your garden of terror.  And like weeds, we will never be gone.

“You see us as docile, dumb, and pretty.  Playthings for the predators to eat and push around as they like.  But we are not unlike the night howler:  innocuous and pretty, but with a bite.  Have you seen what happens to an insect that eats a night howler blossom?  They die.  In agony.  Hidden beneath the beauty and calm of the flower is a toxic substance.  Insidious, it works its way into the insectoid body and snuffs it out.

“Like the locusts, you prey on us.  But like the locusts in a night howler field, you have underestimated our toxic element.  Your time has come, Predation Coalition.  Know this:  your rule is ending.

“We have taken control of several key offices in this city, and our network has begun to shut down your ability to communicate.  Know this:  your reckoning is here.

“You will withdraw from Zootopia, never to return.  Your anti-prey laws will be repealed, and egalitarianism will return to this city.  You will make it once again the city where anyone can be anything.  Because if you don’t, we will cripple you.  Know this:  you have an enemy.

“Until now we have done everything in our power to protest without bloodshed.  We are not like you.  We do not revel in the sin of murder.  We have saved your people pain whenever we could, all while you have slaughtered us by the hundreds every day simply for the sin of growing old.

“It ends today.  We draw the line here.  Every Euthanasia Clinic in the city will be shut down by day’s end and the Predation Coalition’s army will mobilize to leave the city and relinquish their hold on our city.  All who resist this change will be apprehended in the name of peace.  It matters not what species you are.  It matters not what diet you require.  Predator or prey.  If you resist us, you will be taken into the dark places where you will await your just reward.

“You have one week to mobilize and leave the city.  If at the end of that week the Predation Coalition is still present, we will act and we will act fast.

“This is a declaration of intent: that we will not tolerate your presence any longer.  That we will not allow you to continue to slaughter our people.  That we will take every step going forward to end your threat.  This is a declaration of war.

“Know this:  You have an enemy.

“And your enemy has teeth.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shist just got real, my dudes. We're getting right into the meat of things now, and I hope you're liking it so far. Please be sure to leave your thoughts on this new chapter, and I'll see you again next time!


	6. Everything Changes

_“Know this:  You have an enemy._

_“And your enemy has teeth.”_

The feed on the television flickered, clicked, and returned to the news program where the snow leopard anchor was looking more than a little concerned.  Doubtless she would spout some nonsense about “nothing to worry about” and “don’t panic” but Wilde didn’t wait to listen.  He turned on his heel and sprinted back to the stairs to the basement and went down them two stairs at a time.

“Boss,” said Chuck, still holding onto the elk doctor’s cuffed arm.  “Did you see the broadcast?  The TV’s down here—”

“I saw.”  Wilde cut her off frantically, and Delgato raised an eyebrow waiting for orders while Chuck looked like he’d slapped her.  “Don’t give me attitude, Wilcox, we don’t have time to party.  There’s about to be rioting in the goddamn streets, and I need you two to go get Fang and Wolford and go to Site Bravo.  Get equipped, then report to the ZPD and aid them in efforts to contain the riots.”

“Okay.  What should we do with him?”  Wilcox jerked the doctor a bit.

Nick reached into his pocket and pulled out a five-inch folding knife and snapped it open.

“Leave him to me,” said the fox coldly.  “Now _go!_ No time to waste.  I have a lead, I may be able to apprehend the terrorist before anything serious happens.”  They hesitated, Delgato looking worried and Wilcox gazing at the knife in Nick’s paw with delight.  “ _GO_ , damn it!”  They turned and ran up the stairs without another word, Chuck pausing just long enough to pat Nick’s shoulder with a feral grin, and Nick turned to the doctor, who gazed down at him with hatred.

“You may strike me down,” the doctor said, “but the cause will never die.  I’ll be remembered as a hero.”  Nick approached him, and as he did, the more cognizant of the elderly mammals gazed at Nick with varying levels of distaste.

“You’ll be remembered as a good doctor,” said Nick, roughly turning the elk around.  “And I hope you treat your patients in the future with as much zeal as you treat your cause today.”  The knife was inserted into the plastic zip-tie cuffs and, with a quick jerk, they fell away to clatter on the floor. 

The doctor turned and looked at him with disbelief.

“You stay down here.”  Nick closed the knife and pocketed it.  “For at least the next couple hours.  All hell is about to break loose.  When the dust settles, get these people _out._   You hear me?  Out of the city entirely.  There’s a lot of resistance in Bunnyburrow, you may be able to make your way there.”  He turned and started up the stairs.

“Enforcer!” called the doctor after him.  Nick paused and looked back over his shoulder.  “Why?”

Nick looked back for a long moment, before speaking quickly and in a low tone. 

“My stepdad was a hare.  And he was the best mammal I’ve ever known.”  Without another word, he turned and sprinted back up the stairs, leaving the elk in a stunned silence.

After Nick locked the door leading down to the basement, he pulled out his phone and dialed a number, still running through the clinic outside.  By the time his call connected, he was in the parking lot and saw that his team had already gone. 

_“What the hell do you want?”_

“Morning, Finnick,” said Nick cheerfully, looking around as he walked down the sidewalk.  “I’m near the Walnut Zootopia Loop subway station, I need you to pick me up and right now.”

There was a moment of silence as Finnick processed that information.

“…is this about that broadcast?  Alright, I’m nearby.  Give me ten minutes.”  The fennec hung up and Nick put his phone away and continued to speed-walk to the subway entrance down the road.

Finnick’s beat up old van pulled up next to Nick in only six minutes, and Nick hopped into the passenger seat and buckled up as Finnick started driving.

“Alright Nicky,” boomed the desert fox, “tell me where she is.”  Nick gave him a surprised look, and Finnick scoffed.  “Oh, please.  Few days ago you’re moping in a bar about a vixen and now, now that preds have been threatened publicly you’re getting a ride from good ol’ Finn instead of your team.  You’re going after your girl, right?  Probably to keep her safe while you go off and save the world.”

Nick shook his head.  “No.  That’s not it at all.”

“So what…you’re just going to leave your girl hanging and joyride with me?”

“It’s not like that, Finnick, I told you.”  Nick’s voice was low and level, but the diminutive fox must have seen through it.  He pulled over, parked, and turned on his stack of books to look at Nick directly.

“Nicholas,” boomed the little fox, “this isn’t Cynthia.”

“I know, Finn.”  Nick stared straight ahead.

“I get why you’d be cautious.  Bitch used you.  Used her Gift against you.”

“Finnick.”

“But this isn’t Cynthia, Nick.  This is real.”

“ _Finn._ ”

The fennec ignored the warning tone and pressed on.  “Grow the fuck up, Nick.  Don’t shun this vixen.  Do you want to be angry and bitter all the time?  You’ve seen what that can do.  I’m living proof.  Tell me where she is so we can go get her and save her.”

“I can’t, Finnick.”

“Bullshit,” spouted Finn, now standing on his pile of books.  His massive ears flattened back.  “You’re hiding from it because you’re afraid it won’t be real again.”

“ ** _She’s a bunny, Finnick!_** ” shouted Nick, whirling in his seat to face his friend.  Finnick’s face went slack.  “She _can’t_ be my soulmate, goddamn it, because she’s a _bunny._   I can’t just be linked to her.  She’s _prey_.”

The silence stretched for more than a minute, heavy and strained, while Nick looked away and Finnick gaped.

Finally, Finnick spoke, his voice softer than it had been in a very long time.

“I’m so sorry, Nick.  I didn’t know.  I didn’t think it was possible.  I’m sorry.”

Nick sat quiet and still for a long moment, trying to swallow back the hot, wet ball of pressure in his throat.  To his credit, the tears that escaped were few, and to Finnick’s, they weren’t mentioned.

“She’s north-east of here,” Nick said quietly.  “In Meadowlands district, I think.  I suspect she’s linked to the terrorists that broadcast this morning.”

“And you’re what?”  Finnick still spoke quietly, but he turned his van back on and merged into traffic.  “Going to arrest her?”  Nick didn’t answer.  “That’s cold, Nick.  That’s cold, and your dad would be ashamed.”

Nick closed his eyes and didn’t bother wiping away the fresh tears.

The drive felt very long to Nick, but in reality it probably took only forty-five minutes for Finnick to navigate around the groups of prey protesting in the street, the traffic jams on the highways, and police setting up anti-riot barricades.  While Finn drove, Nick directed him using his connection with Judy as a compass.  Finally, they pulled up to a large building, one of the older television broadcast stations that had been shut down in favor of newer more technically advanced ones further inside city proper.  They parked, Finnick shut off the car, and they sat quietly for a long moment listening to the engine tick.

“What’s your plan?”

Nick looked over at Finnick and shrugged.  “I’m not sure.  When the Predation Coalition came here and dad was taken, I joined the army hoping to resist from the inside.  It was a wonderful day when they tagged me for PEA training, it meant that I could operate with very little oversight and do some genuine good here.

“But I got complacent.  And when I was given a team, suddenly it became much harder to resist in those small ways.  Letting prey go with a warning when I should have killed them.  ‘Accidentally’ leaving doors open after ‘not noticing’ older prey hiding from me.  Slipping information into dead drops I discovered and forgetting that I had ever found them.  With a team backing you, it’s harder to do those things, and…now I’m facing a huge choice.”

“Damn right you are,” responded Finnick hotly.  “Make it the right one, Nick.”

Nick took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  Then he unbuckled the seatbelt.

“You need me in there?”  Finnick looked over at him, his expression unclear.

Nick shook his head.  “Better not, Finn.  If it goes sideways, I can justify my presence.  Yours…I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Finnick nodded and reached out with one paw.  Nick took his paw, clasping his wrist tightly.

“Be careful, Nick.  I don’t want to bury you.”

“You won’t.”  He opened the door and hopped out of the van, pausing long enough to look back at Finnick.  “Love you, brother.”

He walked across the parking lot in the baking heat of midmorning, and a car pull in as Finnick’s van pulled out.  Already overwhelmed as he was, Nick failed to consciously notice the car coming in behind him, and he entered the relative cool and dark of the building’s lobby without looking back.

The building was quiet, but there was definitely fresh scent he recognized, and he could distinctly feel Judy’s presence pressing subtly on his mind like heat against his fur.  He followed her scent and her presence down into the building’s basement.  The place was eerily quiet, far quieter than he’d expected it to be.

Then, the door to the studio.  It had to be, given the cables and wires passing through underneath the door, set up for a temporary broadcast.  The light was on in the room beyond as well, as opposed to the emergency lighting in the rest of the building.  Nick slipped his paw in his jacket and drew his sidearm, then pushed the door open and walked cautiously inside.

Judy Hopps stood on the far side of the room, a submachine gun in her paws trained on his chest and a glare in her eyes.  He could feel the anger and confusion and even hatred coming off of her in waves, and he knew she was too far away for his influence to be felt.

He didn’t raise his weapon, kept it trained down in tactical ready.

“P90,” remarked Nick.  “It’ll do, won’t it?”

“It’ll certainly do the job,” said Judy stiffly.  “What did you do to me?”

Nick raised his eyebrow.  “Nothing, yet.  Other than saving your life.  What do you mean?”

“Don’t play coy,” snapped Judy.  “I meet you, you bind my wounds, and suddenly, inexplicably, I know wherever you are.  I’m drawn to you.  Why?”

Nick shook his head.  “It’s complicated, Carrots.”

“I told you, don’t call me Carrots.”

Nick opened his mouth to say something else—something witty that would deflect the original question—and was interrupted by the door behind him crashing open again and four sets of footprints coming in around him.

“Hey Boss,” said a disturbingly familiar voice.  “We late to the party?”

“How did you find me, Chuck?”  Wilde raised his handgun to point at Judy’s chest as she shifted her aim to the ocelot coming in beside  him.  “No no, point the gun at me, Fluff.  Point it at me.  Charlene Wilcox, a member of my team and a mite trigger happy.”

“Call me Charlene again,” said Chuck as Judy shifted her aim back to Wilde, “and I’ll shoot _you_ and blame the rabbit.”

“Chill out, Chucky.”  Delgato stepped to Wilde’s left, and Wolford to Delgato’s left, leaving Fangmeyer towering above Wilde from behind.  They all had their service weapons drawn, though only Chuck and Wilde had them pointing at Judy.

“Delgato,” said Wilde to Judy.  “Wolford.  And Fangmeyer behind me.  We call her Fang.”

“I’m not going to go with you,” said Judy.

“Hush a moment, Fluff.  Chuck, how did you find me?”  Wilde glanced at Chuck out of the corner of his eye, and she reached up to caress his shoulder at the collar of his coat.

“Tracking device.”  She showed him.  “Thought it might come in handy, what with you liking to hog all the glory sometimes.  We having rabbit stew or what?  She’s a little lean, but I mean…I can make a hell of a curry with her.”

Judy growled.  She actually _growled_ , and Wilde looked back at her.  “Stand down, Jude.  We’ll not be killing you today.  You can come with me and you’ll stand trial.”  Silently, he cursed.  Of course Wilcox had bugged him.  Had to have been when she patted him on her way out at the clinic.  And now that they were here, it made his intention to help verifiably impossible.  Even if he tried to fight them, he and Judy both would be killed.

Judy lifted the muzzle of the submachine gun to point at Wilde’s head, and her trigger finger tightened, not quite enough to fire the weapon.

Wilde flipped the safety off his own weapon and trained it right between her gorgeous amethyst eyes and willed her to understand.  _Listen to me_ , he thought to her.  _We can’t win this.  I want to help._

“Don’t make me kill you, Carrots,” said Nick gravely.  “Please.”

 

* * *

 

 

The microphone clicked off as she finished her message, and she heard cheering outside the booth.  Judy smiled as her people came in and congratulated her, told her how amazing it was and how everything was about to change, but she didn’t share their revel.  She gave hugs and patted backs for a few minutes, but then called for silence once she made her way to the main room they’d set up in the basement of the old broadcast building.

“Okay, guys,” said Judy loudly, “we’ve drawn the line.  But that could have been traced.  Everyone needs to leave, right now.  You have your assignments.  The next few days are going to be critical, and we need to make sure our heads are in the game

“Good job today.  Now go, I’ll stay behind and scrub the computers and take things apart and I’ll meet you all at battle headquarters.”

It was a good thing they had backup plans for the backup plans.  They’d meticulously thought out what would be done if any of the key leaders of their rebellion was caught or killed, and Judy knew as she watched them leave that they’d need it.

Nick was coming.  She could already feel the intention in him, and soon she would feel his faint presence growing almost imperceptibly and he came closer.

She reflected on this new ability as she began to erase computer hard drives and wipe down surfaces for prints and fur.  It hadn’t begun suddenly at all; she only really began to notice it after her second time meeting the fox, and it grew gradually from an unconscious awareness to a very conscious presence and even a _longing_.  Even now, as frightened and angry as she was, some part of her was looking forward to seeing Nick again.

It was like he was suddenly the sun, and her entire being revolved around him.  She resisted it, fought it, but could not deny that he was now the first thing she thought of when she woke.  It was dirty, vile, but also the truth.  He had killed many of her kind, or led them to their deaths.  He was an enforcer, after all, the predation coalition’s secret police.  He’d killed and eaten many prey in his time.  Judy knew this, and yet….

His apartment was utterly flesh-free.  Nothing but fruits and vegetables in his pantry and refrigerator.  The closest thing he had to meat was imitation egg.  And he’d defended her against another predator, patched up her wounds, and—macabre jokes about eating or raping her aside—was a perfect gentlemammal the entire time they’d interacted.  Her instinct was that he was _good_. 

She could not resolve what he was with what he seemed to be.  He was coming, and when he got here she didn’t know if she wanted to kill him…or kiss him.

By the time she felt him above, the place was clean and no evidence remained of who had been there.  She could have fled, but she had a distinct awareness that he would be able to follow.  Whatever this connection was, it wasn’t lapine.  She’d _seen_ rabbit magick, and this was not it.  Her kind was improbably lucky, and capable of feats of acrobatics that stretched logic, but they could not attain this extrasensory knowledge.  It frightened and intrigued her.

He was here.  Coming down the stairs, on his way to…do whatever it was he did.  She could feel his tension, his caution, and even a bite of fear, but she could not tell what he intended.  Wasn’t sure even he knew.  As he approached, she backed to the farthest point in the room away from the door; every time she came close to him, any anger or fear or anxiety she had melted away, and she had to consciously hold onto those feelings if she wanted to feel them.  She couldn’t let his mind games stop her from doing her duty.

Thus, she was ready and pointing her weapon at him when he entered.  She saw the flicker of relief pass across his face, and he didn’t raise his weapon.

“P90.  It’ll do, won’t it?” He knew the weapon she had.  Fair enough, she’d grant him that.  It was a very unique weapon, and uniquely suited to small shooters owing to its light weight and minor recoil.

“It’ll certainly do the job,” said Judy, trying not to let her conflict leak into her voice.  “What did you do to me?”

Of course he played dumb.  And when she pressed him further, of course he’d say it’s “complicated.”  And of course he called her that stupid insulting nickname.

“I told you, don’t call me Carrots,” she snapped.

That’s when things went from bad to worse.  Four other predators came streaming in, a tiger, wolf, and lion who looked almost sympathetic, and a small cat; the smaller feline, a gothic ocelot taller than the fox by a couple inches and slender to the point of sickness, bantered with Nick like an old girlfriend but with a feral edge.  Even her expressions, when she looked at Judy, were feral, as if Judy wasn’t even a person to her.  And when she talked so casually and earnestly about cooking Judy….

Rabbits don’t growl, as a rule.  And Judy never had either.  But something in her rose up and she let out a low, rumbling growl of anger at the ocelot’s words.

“Stand down, Jude.  We’ll not be killing you today.  You can come with me and you’ll stand trial.”  The fox spoke quietly, his eyes begging her to give up.

Well.  He made his choice.

She raised the gun to put her point of aim right between his lovely green eyes and applied pressure to the trigger, bringing it right to the break point.  She was about to die, but he’d go with her.

At least the last thing she’d see was those soulful eyes, so filled with kindness and sorrow.

Nick flipped off the safety on his handgun.  He had the safety on?  Why?  He moved his own weapon to point at her head, and the sorrow in his eyes deepened.

“Don’t make me kill you, Carrots,” said Nick gravely, using that damnable nickname to cut through her focus.  She could feel his emotions, urging her silently and hotly to listen.  She could feel he didn’t want this.

“Please,” he added.

She fought with herself for the barest of moments, but in the end his plea won out.  She lowered the weapon, laid it on the ground, and knelt down in preparation for arrest.

The ocelot let out a disappointed growl.

As she knew would happen, the moment Nick closed within ten feet of Judy she felt her anger and upset start to flow away.  Instead of succumbing to his calming influence, she glared at him with her head held high. 

She would not let him see that he got to her.

“Bunnies,” muttered Nick as he zip-tied her paws behind her and lifted her off the floor.  “Defiant to the end.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is NOT over, guys. I promise! So now you've seen a bit more of Nick's motivation. I wonder how he's going to get out of this situation? ;)
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Thanks for reading, and please feel free to comment!


	7. An End and A Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ: This chapter contains strong language and very explicit descriptions of violence. Please proceed with caution.

Wilde literally carried Judy out of the building by the back of her grey t-shirt, and when they reached the parking lot, he got in the back seat of Fang’s car, plunking the bunny still cuffed with zip-ties in the middle seat between him and Delgato.  Fang drove while Wolford and Chuck shared the front seat; not strictly legal, of course, but they weren’t cops and Wilde was too stressed to care.

As they drove through the city, Wilde kept a strong grip on his emotions.  With Judy’s defiance translating through their connection, it was difficult for him to retain the professional indifference he’d so carefully crafted after so many years.  She was trying so hard to be angry, he could tell.  His gift, of course, eased that tension as fast as she created it, forcing a calm in her that it took conscious effort to resist, and he marveled at her force of will.  He’d never met a mammal with such an iron mind before.  Never before had he faced a being so capable of destroying everything he thought he knew about himself, so capable of breaking down every mental defense he had simply by willing it to be so.

Of course she’d be his fated partner.  Karma, they say, has a sense of humor.

Eventually, he noticed that they had not returned to Savannah Central and the ZPD as he’d anticipated, and were instead driving through Tundratown.  A bolt of icy realization flooded him, and his paws clenched into a fist.

“Fang,” said Wilde, deceptively calm.  Judy shot him a look and he could feel the surprise and grudging approval she had for his ability to mask his fear.  “Why aren’t we going to the ZPD?  She should stand trial.”

“Fuck the ZPD,” purred Chuck.  “We’re taking her Site Bravo so we can interrogate her.  And afterwards, we’re having rabbit curry with rice.  All five of us.”

“The ZPD is compromised,” said Fangmeyer quietly.  “A records officer named Bogo locked down the whole of Precinct One the moment the broadcast went live.  Every single officer on the predator army’s side is locked up, and what officers are left have been working with civilian assets since to minimize the panic in the city.”

Judy’s emotions abruptly turned smug and—dare he say it—savagely pleased.  Wilde looked over at Judy with a raised eyebrow and she snapped her jaws at him; the gesture was almost playful even in its aggressive show of pride. 

Her front teeth were uneven.  How…adorable.

Judy’s grin faded as Wilde’s new feelings of interest and attraction translated across to her, and they turned away from each other in the same instant.

“So we’re alone, no support?”  Wilde shook his head and sighed.  “Any word from the other Enforcement agents?”  Delgato cleared his throat awkwardly.

“It…” he faltered, cleared his throat again, and spoke again.  “It seems that most of the other enforcement agents were identified by key people in the ZPD and their whereabouts are unknown.  We’re the only squad that’s attempted to check in.”

“ _What?_ ”  Chuck whirled around in her seat, jamming a knee in Wolford’s groin causing him to groan in pain and shove her away.  “Fuck off, Wolford.  How the hell did they get _all_ of our people, Del?!”

“Get off my dick, you psycho bitch,” snarled Wolford, shoving her again.  He went on before she could retaliate.  “We’re the only team in the city that didn’t treat the goddamn ZPD as our headquarters.  Those stupid assholes got complacent and trusted too many people, that’s why they were taken.  We’re smarter than that.”

“Or maybe we didn’t think you were a threat,” snarked Judy, unasked.

“Shut the fuck up, rabbit,” growled Wolford, looking over his shoulder at her.  “I actually like rabbit curry, so don’t fucking tempt me.”

_“SHUT UP_ ,” shouted Wilde.  Everyone stopped yelling, swearing, and growling all at once, and in the resulting silence Wilde adjusted his tie.  Then he continued calmly.  “Now.  Wolford, watch your fucking mouth.  Chuck, sweetheart, dial back the psycho for a few minutes.  Fangmeyer, keep your eyes on the road and get us to Site Bravo as soon as possible.  Delgato, thank you for the intelligence.  And Judy…darlin’…provoking an ill-tempered wolf is maybe not the best idea right now.  Chill out.  Seriously.

“I want complete silence for the rest of this car ride.  If any of you so much as sweat too loudly, I swear by Karma’s well-chewed tail I’ll fucking shoot you.”  Wilde then promptly laid his head back, sighed, and tried to block out the beginnings of what he knew would be a monster headache.  “One little terrorist threat and this well-oiled team devolves into four year olds, I swear to gods….”

Twenty minutes later, the car pulled to a stop, and Wilde looked up to see the house they arrived at.  In any other context it might be called a cabin, but as it stood across the street from a warehouse and adjacent to a grocery store the term might have been somewhat disingenuous.  Wilde had mixed feelings about seeing it again; in this building was his team’s entire cache of backup supplies, and the place was well-fortified, though it didn’t look it.  On the other hand, he’d been party to a few too many “aggressive interrogations” in the basement, not to mention that thing that happened with Chuck that one time the power went out.  She swore it was only to keep them warm enough to survive, insisted she didn’t like males that way, but he had the scars to prove how much she enjoyed herself.

In short, he didn’t like to think about it.

The five predators got out of the car, and Judy quickly followed; it was clear she had no intention of being carried again, and Wilde simply let her have her way.  It was simpler than fighting.  He took up the rear of the group as Fangmeyer led them inside, across the well-furnished living room, and to the stairs in the kitchen.  Nobody even paused as they made their way into the basement, clicking on the light down there as they arrived.  Without being asked, Wolford handed Wilde a length of rope, which Wilde took without comment.

“Fang and Chuck, make a food run.  Wolford, take watch upstairs.  Delgato, watch the cameras in here, please.”  The two females and the wolf immediately went upstairs and Delgato sat at the table with the monitor, flicking it on.  It was a webcam, technically, but it served very well as an impromptu security camera.  Wilde, meanwhile, grabbed Judy by the upper arm and pulled her into the second room.  Inside it was…bare.  Two chairs, one in the center of the room facing the door, and the other in the corner facing the center of the room; a lamp, pointed at the center chair; and a webcam above the door, trained on the center chair as well.  Wilde closed the door behind them and shoved Judy into the seat, ignoring her protests as he securely tied her arms, legs, and torso to the chair.  Then he flicked the lamp on in the otherwise dark room, sat in the corner seat, and watched her.

It felt…different than he expected.  He’d been told the stories, sure.  How linking with your soul mate was earthshattering, life-changing.  A complete paradigm shift.  But the reality was far more subtle and profound than that.  It was like Judy had become the planet, and Nick was orbiting her, bound to her.  No longer did the mass of the earth bind him here; it was her, simply and utterly, that kept his paws on the ground.  Resist though he may, the draw was undeniable.  He was rapidly falling in love with Judy Hopps.  It had been inevitable from the moment they first locked eyes on one another, an inexorable pull that he was utterly incapable of sufficiently resisting.

And upon consciously realizing this, Nick simply…gave in.  His soul mate was his most hated enemy, his greatest potential ally.  The perfect prey to his species, and the perfect partner to a jaded fox.  And the moment he accepted it, he knew what he had to do.

 

* * *

 

Judy had no idea what the cabin was for, not for certain, but she couldn’t help but think it quaint as they entered it.  That thought of course was marred by a surge of comfort, distaste, and—of all things—lust from the fox behind her, but his distraction didn’t stop her from noticing the unused and dusty rustic furniture, most all made of wood or canvas.  The ground floor could use a serious dusting, but she had to appreciate the simple elegance of the place.

But then they entered the basement.  The first room was large, probably designed as a storage area but now it held only a single metal table and four chairs.  Upon the table was an LCD monitor and a computer with the usual attachments, and when ordered the lion sat at it and powered it on.  Nick dragged her through the door on the right of the stairs into a much smaller room; it would almost have been cozy, merely ten feet by ten, if it wasn’t for the fact that the floor was concrete and the chair in the middle of the room was plain uncomfortable steel, a stark contrast to the comfy padded office chair in the corner.

She definitely noticed the discrete drain directly underneath the steel chair before she was roughly tossed into the seat and bound to it.

Her experimental tugs at her bonds were just that:  experimental.  She determined that Nick was very handy with bindings, and she wondered despite herself what it must be like to be tied up by him in entirely other circumstances.  Those thoughts didn’t linger long, however, as Nick closed the door and flicked on the lamp.  It was very effective at shrouding everything else, including the fox, in darkness.  She knew precisely where he was, could feel his hot presence burning into her from that corner there, but she couldn’t see him.

For a long time, they sat in silence, the fox studying the rabbit.  She could sense the intrigue he had, the hunger with which he drank in her form and picked out details from her.  She wondered, could he tell she had grown up on a farm?  Could he see that she was the oldest of two hundred seventy-six kittens?  What could his keen eyes divine from the details she’d left carelessly visible?

As she gazed into the darkness where she knew he hid, she felt his emotions slowly, glacially shift.  Where he started out uncertain and stressed and scared and angry, he slowly became more and more sure, more and more determined, and…perhaps, if she wasn’t deluding herself, just a tiny little bit enamored.

Judy wondered what it was like to kiss him.

All through this, she kept reminding herself to be angry and scared, fighting his mind game intermittently as she remembered she was supposed to be doing so.  While he had some deep-seated revelation, she tried to be angry and wasn’t sure if she was failing on purpose.

His emotions locked down into a hard core of certainty and passion the likes of which she’d never seen in another being.  She imagined she could see the glimmer of his canid eyes from the shadows boring into her, and her core melted at the thought despite itself, and in the face of such passion and such self-certainty, she felt something within her shift ever so slightly.  Whatever this connection was between them, whatever this pull she felt toward him, she was tired of fighting it.  Like swimming against a riptide, it was exhausting and she was tired.  She would fall to its pull eventually, she knew with certainty.  It was not a matter of if but of when.  She would fall wholly, her cleansing corruption utterly inexorable, and when she understood that she simply let go.

She wondered, was this what it’s like to be in love?  All hard edges and soft, blurry lines?  All heat and cold together?  Was that what it meant to love?  To experience fundamental disparity? Insurmountable fear in the face of unbreakable courage and complete uncertainty curled round total conviction? If it was, Judy was lost to it.

The moment she let go of her resistance and gave in to the connection, a curious thing happened.  That stifling presence which had forced her to be calm and trusting when near Nick fell away.  She could still feel it if she concentrated, but it had no power over her.

She found that she didn’t mind not being angry anymore.

“What is this?”  Her voice was bright and subdued, no hint of fear tainting it, the sound caressed in the folds of curiosity.  When she spoke, Nick stood, crossed the space between them, and knelt between her knees, his paws resting lightly on the arms of her chair not quite touching her own paws, and his reply was quiet, whispered reverently like a priest might whisper a holy sacrament. 

“It’s called the Linking.”  His emerald eyes shone with emotion and she felt his love bound into her, called to her by her own and returned in kind.  “When a fox meets his one true mate, they are bound in fate, the red cord tying them together.  And when they mutually accept it, their souls kiss.  Joined forever.”

“It’s wonderful,” she whispered.  “I’m scared.”

“I know.  So am I.”

“Nick.”  She looked away from him, a surge of what could almost be called shame piercing her.  “You’re with _them_.  Even now, I hate you.  For what you represent.  For what you’ve done.”

“I know that too.”  He let his paws close the last inch to caress hers.  “I want you to know something I’ve never told anyone else before.  My dad, the mammal who raised me?  His name was Jack.  Jackson Harvey Leaps.”

Judy was silent for a long moment while that processed.  She frowned, her brow furrowing.  “But…that’s a hare surname.”

“Exactly,” whispered Nick simply.

Judy looked back to him, searching his eyes and his heart and finding only honesty. 

“I have to fix this,” whispered Nick.  “And I need your help to do it.  And after we’re done, you can hate me.  It’ll be fine.  Go back to Bunnyburrow, plant your crops and live knowing that you were right about predators.”  His voice was even and calm, but she could feel the wrenching pain within him.  His eyes fell from hers and he began to unknot the ropes binding her paws to the chair.

A deafening explosion interrupted him, the sound of a firearm discharging in the other room, and he whirled around to meet the threat, crouching in a martial arts style defensive pose.  The door swung open, and there stood Charlene Wilcox, gun in hand.  Behind her, Delgato was laying in a heap on the floor, far too much blood on the concrete beneath him.

“Oh, Nicky,” crooned the Ocelot.  “How far you’ve fallen.”  She glanced down at the gun in her hand and shrugged before tossing it into the room behind her.

“Wolford?”  Nick’s voice was flat and ever so slightly aggressive.

“He called me a ‘psycho bitch’ one time too many.  He’s as dead as Delgato.”

“…Fangmeyer?”

“Fang…oh, she’s my favorite, Nick.”  Chuck flexed, and her claws eased out to glint in the reflected light of the lamp.  “You know she can get me to the peak with just a single finger?  Girl’s got talent.”

“What did you do to her, Charlene?” Nick took a small step to one side, and Chuck’s easy grin fell to a predatory glare.

“Don’t _call_ me _Charlene._ ”  She cleared her throat.  “I didn’t kill Fang.  Knocked her out with a stun gun, though.  I know she’s on my side, but you know…I just don’t like to share.  She’ll forgive me.”

“You’re a sociopath, Charlene.”  Nick took another step.

“Nick, I swear to all the gods if you don’t stop calling me Charlene I’ll become unpleasant.”  She licked the claws on one paw after a moment.  “Now, the way I see it, Nick, honey, we have two choices here.  You can continue to stand between me and my prey and we’ll fight…or you can _get with the fucking program_ and help me gut the bitch.”  Judy, having been silent and quiet up to this point, realized what Nick was doing.  The further he edged to one side, the less attention the ocelot paid her.  She began to fight the partly-untied bindings.

“You know, you’re wrong.”  Nick was supremely confident, and Chuck blinked and tilted her head to one side.  “Sure.  Fangmeyer isn’t on your side; she’s working with Judy.” 

Judy stopped struggling for a moment to gape in shock at Nick, neatly mirroring Chuck’s expression.  _How did he_ know _?!_

“The hell you say,” spat Chuck.

“It’s true,” retorted Nick, edging closer to Chuck.  “Think about it.  I mean, I knew Judy was Azure the moment I brought up the terrorist attacks around her.  She couldn’t have telegraphed her involvement more if she tried, that little twitchy bunny nose was a dead giveaway.  And of course Otterton is involved.  How can he not be?  Some random florist just _happens_ to know the exact message a terrorist group is trying to convey from what…a single flower?  Not a chance.  The way he said it to me was so smooth, so _rehearsed_.  No hesitation.  No, Otterton was involved.”  Nick was nearly within arm’s reach of the ocelot and was edging closer still.

“But I wouldn’t have known to go to Otterton if it weren’t for Fangmeyer.  She gave me Otterton’s location when we got the reports on the flower back from forensics.  Said she knew him from her brother’s wedding…only, a sheep did the flowers at her brother’s wedding.  And besides, she just happens to know the one florist in all of Zootopia who supposedly knows obscure plant symbology?  I don’t think so.  And did you see how she looked at Judy during the car ride here?  They’ve met.”

_Huh_ , thought Judy.  _That’s…actually pretty clever._   She resumed her struggle with the ropes. 

Chuck scoffed, a distinctly convinced sound.  “You think you’re so brilliant, Nick,” she snarled.  “That’s nothing but a bunch of wild leaps of logic with no real bearing in reason.”

“You’re right, Chuck,” agreed Nick.  “It was largely intuition.  I didn’t have solid facts.  But you know what I do have?”

“What?” asked Chuck derisively.

“First strike.”  Without hesitation, Nick’s paw snapped out and the heel of his palm crashed into Chuck’s jaw, sending the cat sprawling on the floor.  Nick moved then to viciously kick her while she was prone, but the ocelot was too quick, deftly springing away, only to pounce on Nick, clawing him furiously with one hind paw while her front paws locked his arms immobile under her arms.  Nick yelled as his suit was torn, four parallel lacerations cutting deep into his hip,  his blood splattering the concrete as the pair fell.  Nick’s arms were jarred loose with the fall and he landed a heavy blow to Chuck’s chest.  He snapped his head forward following that and ripped his teeth into her shoulder.  The pain was apparently enough to drive her back away from him, her own blood joining his on the floor, while Judy looked on in horror, still working on her bindings.  Her arms were free, and she was unknotting her legs.

Chuck and Nick both gingerly stood.

“You chose the wrong side, Nick,” said Chuck coldly.  “I’ve never eaten fox before.  It’ll be interesting.”

“Oh, I’m not so tasty,” said Nick casually.  “I’m sure I taste like feet.”

“I’ll choke you down,” purred Chuck.  Then she surged forward suddenly, snake-like, and hit him deeply in the gut, slamming Nick to the wall with one paw around his throat and the other dragging upward in his belly.

The strangled whine Nick gurgled out was chilling, and the agony was clear on his face.  Chuck, on the other hand, looked positively euphoric as Nick’s lifeblood poured between her fingers.

“ _Hnngg…_ Ch-Charlene,” struggled Nick.  “F-forgot s-somet-thing.”

“Oh?” asked Chuck, sweetly.  “And what is that?”

“B-bunny.”

Chuck turned to see Judy’s chair empty.  Then, she turned further, dropping Nick, and found her own gun pressed to the underside of her jaw.

“Oh,” said Chuck simply.

“Yeah.”  Judy’s cold reply was punctuated by a single deafening gunshot as she plastered the ceiling with the contents of the ocelot’s skull.

Nick felt cold.  That was honestly the best way to describe it.  The searing pain in his hip and belly was already beginning to fade, and he thought rather distantly that he was going in shock.  Well, at least he’d die with Judy next to him.  Judy had tossed the gun away and then ran to Nick, pulling her shirt off to press into the wound in his gut.  He could hear her call out to him, but he didn’t feel like talking.

_“Nick, don’t you dare.  Don’t you leave me, you filthy pred, focus!”_   Oh, that’s nice.  More name calling.  Maybe he was rubbing off on her.  Nick looked up at her, saw her paws and arms matted crimson with his blood.  It wasn’t a great look on her, but he’d take what he could get.

“B-b-bunnies,” wheezed Nick, fumbling to grasp her paw.  His head fell back, his strength at an end, but he bore a pained grin anyway.  “D-d-defiant to the e-end.”

“Don’t you do it, Nick!”  She shouted at him from the end of a tunnel.

“Y-you b-bunnies are so _em-emotional_.”  Nick fell, smiling, into an abyss without time or sensation, his last conscious thought that it was nice to be loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not the end. All is not lost. I promise.


	8. Motivations

It was, for a rabbit such as Judy, a pleasant place.  The tunnels beneath the city, once maintenance and train tunnels until being closed off for one reason or another, had been appropriated by Judy and her rebellion.  With the help of a dozen beaver construction engineers, they were made into a rather effective battlefield headquarters complex with enough room to house a thousand mammals of any size and all the equipment required to keep them alive even through a siege lasting months.  There was also a series of makeshift jails with enough space to imprison another thousand mammals, jails that were mostly empty as yet.

But it was to the clinic that Judy sprinted, Fangmeyer at her tail carrying a red, limp figure.  It was the first time a predator had entered these tunnels, except of course for the Ottertons, and the reaction was immediate.  Three buffalos and an elephant immediately moved to intercept the tiger, until one of them recognized her as one of Judy’s few double-agents.

“ _Get out of the way_ ,” screamed Judy without slowing down, darting around the elephant as she tried to do exactly that.

“We need that new doctor,” called Fangmeyer as she ran around them, “right now.  It’s life or death.”

Several mammals immediately ran off in different directions looking for the doctor that had been brought in just that morning.

Meanwhile, Judy and Fangmeyer had cleared the huge room they were using as a common area and were darting through narrower corridors before finally bursting into the clinic proper.  It had once been a storage room for maintenance equipment, but it now held all the necessary paraphernalia to form a makeshift exam room and surgical theater.

“Get him on the table,” said Judy frantically as Fangmeyer did so.

“Is he—” began Fang after laying him down, putting pressure on the horrific wound in the fox’s torso.

Judy cut her off.  “He’s alive,” the bunny said softly, climbing onto the tall table.  “Somehow, he’s alive…barely.”  She knelt next to Nick Wilde’s limp form and took one of his massive paws in her own just as the doctor burst into the room.  It was an elk and he was already pulling on a pair of gloves from his satchel.

“I’m Doctor Daniel Ford,” said the elk speaking quickly as he set aside his satchel.  “What do we have….”  He trailed off and looked down at the fox with a curious look.  Judy snapped her head up to glare at him.

“He’s _dying_ , doctor,” she snapped.  “Fought with an ocelot, severe lacerations to his abdomen.  If you have a problem treating predators, tough shit.  Treat him, then leave.”

Ford hesitated only a moment before grabbing a pair of scissors from a nearby table.  He spoke as he cut Nick’s jacket and shirt off.  “Sorry, miss.  It took me by surprise…he’s the reason I’m alive right now.”  He fell silent as he tossed Nick’s clothing aside, revealing the fox’s narrow torso and cream-colored chest fur, stained red with blood and marred by a horrific six inch gash. After a quick examination of the wound, Ford turned to collect some tools.

“If you want him to live, get off my operating table.  And I need a nurse, right now.  I’ll let you know if he pulls through.”  He began his work without another word.  Judy hopped down and started to walk out.

“I’ll know,” she said lowly, “if he dies.” 

Once she left the clinic, she found a tapir nurse and sent him to the doctor.  Then, she paced.

The common room had once been a subway station before being boarded up and closed down.  Access to the surface directly was sealed off, and the place had been a mess when they found it.  Now, it held dozens of prey mammals of all species, one nervous tiger, and Judy Hopps pacing back and forth.  She’d been at it for over an hour when a gentle paw on her shoulder drew her to a stop.  She looked over, prepared to yell, but her protest died in her throat when she saw it was Mr. Otterton.

“Judy, honey,” said the otter softly, “come with me.”  He pulled her along before she could refuse, and led her into the residential tunnels to the room he shared with his family.  She’d never met his family and they were not present when she entered; likely, they had tasks they were attending to. 

Otterton sat her on a cot and handed her a glass.

“Drink,” said the otter simply.  He sat near her sipping on a glass of his own, and when she did take a swallow she discovered it was alcohol of some kind.  Once she’d gotten most of it down, Otterton cleared his throat.  “You’ve brought two predator enforcers into your battlefield HQ, one of them badly injured, and since making the doctor work on him you’ve spent the time having an emotional breakdown.  Would you like to explain to me what’s happening?”

Judy was silent for a long moment before speaking. 

“Fangmeyer is one of my agents.  She discovered one of our convoys taking people out of the city to safety; instead of turning us in, she helped us.  She’s been helping us since.”

“And the fox?  As I recall, he’s the one who was investigating you.”

Judy nodded.  “He arrested me, in fact.”

Otterton frowned.  “And…you brought him here for treatment why?”

Judy shook her head.  “He didn’t _want_ to arrest me.  His team caught up to him before he could get me to trust him enough to not shoot him.  Once they showed up, he had no choice.  If he had fought them, we’d both have been killed.

“But when they took me to some place in Tundratown for interrogation, he didn’t even ask any questions.  He just…studied me.  And we ended up deciding that…”  She hesitated, not sure if she should try to explain the connection they had.  Not sure if the otter would believe it.  Hell, she wasn’t sure _she_ believed it was real, and she _felt_ it.  “I didn’t trust him, even when he started untying me, but then the ocelot came in and…he defended me.  He’s in there now dying because he put his life between her and me, and…how can I distrust him now?  He’s dying for me and he barely knew me.  And I’m drawn to him, I can’t help but like him.”

Otterton sighed.  “You trust him, but nobody else will.  People are nervous enough about the tiger.”

Judy frowned at him.  There was an edge to his words.  “What did you do?”

Otterton raised his paws before him.  “Not me.  Trunkaby thought it best the tiger be…put into protective custody.  When I brought you here, she took care of it.  And the fox, if he survives, will also be locked up.”

“I don’t think so,” growled Judy.

“I don’t think you have a say, actually.”

“I’m the _leader_ of this rebellion, Otterton!”  Judy surged to her feet.  “It’s _my_ say.”

“I think you’ll find it a bit difficult to maintain that command if you let a fox run free, Judy.”

“Why?  Because he’s a predator?  So are you, should I lock you up?”

“Right,” scoffed Otterton, “because nobody trusts an otter.  Most prey don’t consider us predators anyway, and you know it.”

Judy started to reply heatedly but her voice died.  As much as she hated to admit it, she knew that just a few hours ago she’d have been right there with him condemning the fox because of his station and species.  So much had changed in just the last few hours.  Accepting the inevitability of her connection with Nick had triggered a complete paradigm shift in her, and if Otterton’s implication was right it might lose her the command.

“He’s an enforcer, Judy,” continued Otterton softly.  “He’s killed and eaten your kind before.  Even if he’s changed, he’s still a killer.”

She shook her head.  “No.  He’s not.”  Judy stood to leave; when Otterton didn’t protest or try to stop her, she walked out of the room and made her way to the detention area where she found the elephant Trunkaby in conversation with some of the other guards just outside the cell tunnel.  Judy marched up to them without hesitation and cleared her throat, interrupting their conversation.

“I need to speak to Fangmeyer.”

With only the slightest hesitation, the group shifted position to allow Judy through the door.  Judy walked around them and entered the tunnel without another word.  The tunnel was one of several used as prisons, one side overtaken by hastily-built but nonetheless strong jail cells.  This particular tunnel held only one prisoner:  the tiger Fangmeyer, who was laying on the cot, and who looked up as Judy approached.

“Loving the hospitality,” said Fangmeyer, looking back at the ceiling.

“It’s not ideal,” said Judy.  “But if I let you run free, I’ll lose control.  If I lose control, we lose the war.”  Fangmeyer didn’t reply.  “I need to know some things, Fang.”

Fangmeyer rolled her head around and peered at Judy again.  “Interrogation?  Really?”

Judy put her paws in her pockets.  “Just a chat between friends.”

“We’re not friends, bunny.  We’ve cooperated against a mutually distasteful military dictatorship, that’s all.”

“Why is it so distasteful to you, Fang?  Why do you help us?”

“Is it important?”

Judy sighed and sat against the wall opposite Fangmeyer’s cell.  “I need to know.”

Fangmeyer turned to face the ceiling again and was quiet for a long time, but eventually she sighed.  “When I was twelve, my older brother was beaten to death by a group of sheep who took offense to his being a tiger.”  She spoke in an even tone, but there was the edge of pain Judy could hear in it.  “When I started hearing about an army of predators going to war on this country, I defected.  Joined the army, because I wanted to see all prey animals brought down to their rightful place for what they did to my brother.  And I fought hard.  When I became a Predation Enforcement Agent, I did everything enforcers are known to do, and more.”

Judy stared at Fangmeyer for a moment, expecting her to continue.  When she didn’t, Judy spoke.  “What changed?”

Fangmeyer closed her eyes.  “A year ago, I was on assignment, responding to a rampaging bison woman.  She had attacked three wolves, badly injured them before I showed up and shot her.  Didn’t even think about it, just put a bullet in her.  When I asked the wolves why she attacked, they started joking and laughing about how they were taunting her with her children.

“See, they had kidnapped the cow’s four kids to torment her, and were going to kill and eat them when they were done with the cow.”

“That…that’s awful,” muttered Judy in horror. 

Fangmeyer nodded.  “It hadn’t occurred to me that children were being affected.  And when they showed me the calves locked in their basement, shaking with terror and beaten up…when they bragged to me about it, offered to _share_ ….

“I joined the army for revenge against what prey had done to my brother, and I failed to realize what the army was causing.  Hatred doesn’t bring peace…it only brings pain.  That’s why I help you, rabbit.  I’m tired of pain.”

Judy was quiet for a long while reflecting on Fangmeyer’s words.  She wasn’t sure how to react to them, if she was honest with herself.  The zeal with which Fang had apparently served her army before was frightening, but Fangmeyer had helped them many times in the last year, leading to a number of important victories.

“And Nick?” asked Judy finally.  “Tell me about him.”

“Nicholas Wilde,” said Fangmeyer, “is the loneliest soul I’ve ever seen.  I’ve known him for many years and I’ve only ever seen him treat one other mammal like a friend.  He keeps to himself, almost to a fault.  He’ll see the rest of us on duty, but if he’s not working he’s alone.  Sometimes you can see a little bit of something else peek through.  Sometimes he’ll joke, say something sarcastic and clever.  He used to do that all the time.  But he isolates himself.  And he can see everything about you.  It’s impossible to hide anything from him.”

Silence fell between them for another long while.  Then, Judy stood and left, walking through the tunnels aimlessly until someone found her and informed her the doctor needed to see her.

She went straight to the clinic, and found the doctor standing outside.  He must have cleaned up, because he didn’t have any blood on him.

“Your fox will live,” he said calmly.  “I’ve managed to repair the damage; it’ll take some weeks for him to heal fully, but he should make a full recovery.  He’s still unconscious, but he’ll wake in a little while.”

“Thank you, doctor,” said Judy.  Then she looked at the lone rhino standing nearby, clearly guarding the fox.  “I need you to see to it that the fox is moved to my personal quarters.  Once he’s there you can stand guard outside if it makes you feel better, but he’s going there.  Do it now.  I need to check some things and I’ll be along to take over soon.”  The rhino hesitated only a moment before nodding and moving to follow her orders with the doctor’s help.

Judy went to collect her lieutenants for a report.  It was better than she could have hoped:  only a couple dozen prey were apprehended for supporting the Predation Coalition, and nobody had been killed so far.  Furthermore, word was coming in that the Euth Clinics were being “temporarily” closed down.  Official word was that the government was closing them down to prevent attacks, but Judy was certain that it was a step in the right direction.

Once that was done, she went to her room, where Nick was laying on her cot, still unconscious.  He’d been cleaned, and his torso was wrapped with bandages.  He had color in his ears and his breathing was deep and regular.

She sat on the floor next to the cot and grasped his paw in both of hers, laying her head on the joined limbs.  Just a few hours ago, she both loved and hated him, and couldn’t find it in her to even consider trusting him. 

But now?  Now, she couldn’t have hated him if she’d tried.

 

* * *

 

Sometimes the oblivion of unconsciousness can stretch on for a long, long time.  Such was Nick’s experience after he fell to Charlene’s devastating attack.  It was dreamless, voiceless, and yet….

Nick knew he should have died.  Very nearly had died, in fact, but in that dreamless void of unconsciousness, Nick felt the rather strong pull of fate.  His limbo extended forever and in it he felt the burn in his gut, the only sensation piercing through.  He supposed he’d deserved it.  After all, he’d joined the army.  Even if his intentions were to disrupt, he’d still ended up doing damage.  He’d be forced to live with his wounds, and watch the aftermath of his failures, because Karma’s balance must be maintained. 

It was better than death, he supposed.

After an eternity, Nick felt himself being drawn up from the depths of darkness.  The burning in his gut intensified, but he began to notice things.  He could see, as he rose toward awakening, a delicate gold thread of light piercing his chest above his heart, a cord of emotion pulling him ever upward, connecting him with the other half of his being.  He felt warmth and weight.  And he could hear a soft beating.

Nick opened his eyes, the delusions of sleep gone, and he realized what the warmth and weight was:  a grey rabbit had her head laid over his arm, her little paws clinging to his as if it were a life raft.  He could just barely hear the beating of her heart at the edge of his hearing, fast compared to his own. 

He took a deep breath, and felt the wound’s ache intensify, the bandages wrapping him preventing him from taking as deep a breath as he’d like.  Nick looked around and saw the room was best described as makeshift:  it contained a rickety table with a chair, a box of clothing, a cot upon which he was laying, and a single bare bulb hanging from the ceiling, and little else.  He had no desire to get up, so he didn’t.  Judy though was laying half on the cot in an awkward position; he knew if he left her like that she’d wake up stiff, at best.  So he scooted over on the cot to make room and drew her sleeping form up beside him.

It occurred to him to consider as he did so what other predators would say if they knew he was spooning with a rabbit.  It would not be good.  In fact, he could pretty much consider his career over at this point.  There was the chance that those in charge didn’t know yet that he’d defected, but he’d gone too long already without checking in.  It would be very unlikely indeed that he wouldn’t be arrested on sight at this point.

As if sensing in her sleep the dark turn of his thoughts, Judy moaned softly and burrowed into his side.  Nick smiled and wrapped his arms around her, letting himself drift back into sleep.  He knew he was—quite literally—sleeping with the enemy, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.  He knew he was doing the right thing, and he knew at his core that his dad would approve.


	9. A Trial Is Conducted

Judy woke up in a great deal of comfort.  She was surrounded by softness and pleasant warmth, the pressure of arms wrapped around her and a soft, pungent odor of violets in her nose.  It took her a few minutes to remember that when she passed out she had not in fact been laying in her cot spooning with a predator.  It occurred to her that he must have pulled her up while she slept, and the thought made her smile. 

Soon though she decided she needed to get up and see what time it was, and what was new.  So she carefully crawled out of the cot, dressed in clean clothes, and went into the common area.  It was early morning, and while she ate a breakfast of canned veggies she learned from some of the rebels who were still awake—or already awake—that nothing much had changed since she’d been asleep.  The riots had stopped, partly due to night having fallen, but mostly due to the efforts of the ZPD.

She was just finishing up with her breakfast when four mammals came up to her, surrounding her table.  It was Trunkaby and her three heavy-hitters, McHorn the rhino and two bison.

“We heard the fox lived,” said Trunkaby.  “Survived the night.”

Judy nodded.  “He did.  He’s obviously still in bad shape; you don’t just walk away from that kind of wound.  Doctor said his gut was shredded, took some creative surgery to fix it.  He’ll be bed-ridden for at least a few days.”

“He can still be moved by wheelchair.  We have one for him, he’s being moved to a cell to await trial.”

“No.  He’s not a criminal.”  Judy’s words were clipped and stern.

McHorn snorted.  “He’s an enforcer, Hopps.”

“Nick Wilde has helped me at every turn and nearly gave his life to save mine.  It would be poor repayment for us to lock him up, especially in his condition.”

Trunkaby looked down at Judy very seriously.  “Judy, I don’t think you understand.  We’re not asking.  You’re the only one here who doesn’t want to execute him.  You can go get him, or we can lock you both up.”

A chill settled in Judy’s spine and her eyes narrowed into a glare.  “I don’t think so.  You want to play it that way?  Fine.”  Judy hopped up and walked to the nearest intercom; the tunnels had been outfitted with them to send mass messages quickly, and she used it to send her words to the entire system of remodeled tunnels.  “Attention:  we are commencing a drumhead trial on the subject of Nick Wilde.  I require everyone to converge in the common area immediately.”

She turned to Trunkaby, who hit her with her own glare.  “Give me the wheelchair, and set up a spot for this trial.  He’s getting checked by the doctor, then we’ll be along.”

 

* * *

 

Some kind of loud woke Nick:  a voice, the words not understood to him in his grogginess.  The pleasant heat and softness of Judy’s form was gone, but Nick sensed her nearby.  Soon, though, the door swung open.  Judy entered, a frown on her face, pushing a wheelchair.  She didn’t look at Nick’s face as she lined the wheelchair up next to the cot.

“Get up.”  Judy snapped at him, reaching to help him at the same time.  “You have an appointment.”  Nick didn’t protest, and when he was settled comfortably in the wheelchair, his mid-section burning and aching, Judy wheeled him out into the tunnel without any sort of comment.  He was taken to the makeshift clinic first, where Doctor Ford waited, looking grim.

“Mr. Wilde,” said the doctor, “I’m going to inspect your wound and replace the dressing.  Is that alright?”  Nick nodded, frowning.

“Of course,” said the fox.  “What’s going on?”

He felt Judy’s anger sharpen, frustration deepen, and a spike of fear went through the bunny.  Judy and the elk looked at each other for a moment before Judy answered.

“You’re being put on trial, Nick,” she said coldly.

“For what?”

Judy looked away.  “For being a predator.”

There was nothing he could say to that, so he didn’t try.  The doctor’s inspection was very quick, and the elk had only one thing to say as he bandaged the wound with fresh bandages.

“You’re already starting to heal.  Very good sign.”  Finally, they were dismissed from the clinic with the warning to take it easy, and Judy wheeled Nick out toward the common area.  When they arrived at what had once been a quite large underground train station, it was quite full of prey animals of all sizes.  Tables and benches had been moved, clearing the open area, and chairs had been brought and arranged along the walls, where most of the rebel faction was seated.  A female elephant, a rhino, and two bison were standing near the head of the room, where a platform had been erected. 

Nick was brought right up to the front of the platform twenty feet away from the elephant and other guards, and Judy stepped away to the side, to speak.  As she opened her mouth to say something to the crowd, however, Trunkaby spoke instead.

“This is a formality,” said the elephant.  “Nick Wilde is an Enforcement Agent, and a team leader at that.  He will be imprisoned in our cells to await our victory, at which time he will be put on official legal trial for war crimes, multiple counts of murder and cannibalism, and crimes against mammality, followed by execution.  This hearing is a formality only, to settle Miss Hopps’ objections.” 

Nick looked around at the mammals arrayed before him.  Some looked pleased by Trunkaby’s declaration, some looked like they wanted, to step up the execution, but most looked confused and disturbed.  Some, Nick was pleased to see, also looked outright alarmed.

Judy, however, was incensed, which she demonstrated by whirling around to gape in fury at Trunkaby.  She was not alone:  McHorn and one of the bison also looked particularly surprised and displeased by this turn of events.

“Uh, no.”  Judy spoke clearly and strongly, and turned her back on Trunkaby, facing the crowd.  “We will not devolve into reactionary mob-justice.  We outlined certain rules when I formed this rebellion and everyone…” she glared over her shoulder at Trunkaby.  “ _Everyone_ gave oaths to follow those rules when you were allowed into this organization.  This will be a full-fledged hearing to determine Nick’s status within this organization.  Anyone with relevant testimony will be invited to speak as long as you speak truthfully, and a vote will be had at the conclusion.”  There was a long silence following, during which Nick imagined he could feel Trunkaby’s fury at Judy taking charge again.  She didn’t speak out, however, and it was easy to see why:  the vast majority of the crowd was now nodding or otherwise expressing their approval.

And so the trial commenced. 

Trunkaby was the first to speak to the room.

“The fox is an Enforcement Agent.  It’s well-known the kinds of things they are trained to do:  gather information, manipulate, and kill.  He now comes in here supposedly badly injured, our illustrious leader claiming loyalty to him, and now this high-ranked enemy agent has access to our very headquarters.  His freedom is our downfall.  We must have him imprisoned, or we will all be killed in our sleep.”

The next dozen or so speakers were on the elephant’s side.  The comments generally concurred with hers.  A sheep insisted that “everyone knows foxes can’t be trusted.”  Another claimed that enforcement agents were brainwashed and expected to prove a certain number of kills every week, so obviously Nick was a murderer and who would trust such a person?  Perhaps the most damning though was a beaver’s claim of logic, saying it was safer to imprison him and be sure he could do no damage than to trust him and let him have a chance to betray them.

Then Judy called for mammals to speak in Nick’s defense.

A full minute passed in silence.

Nick’s own disappointment and fear was enhanced by Judy’s.  But then, finally, someone stood.  It was a gazelle, barely into adulthood.

“Three years ago,” she said to the silent room, “my grandparents were trying to escape the city, to avoid euthanasia.  We were caught by a fox…and he told us how to get out unseen.  And last year, the same fox saved me from a hunter.  That fox.  Nick Wilde.  Both times, he disappeared afterward without waiting to be thanked, without asking for payment.”

Her words sparked a flame.  It was only a moment after she sat down that another stood, a buffalo, who told a story about being stranded in city center after curfew due to a vehicle breakdown, and Nick drove him home, telling the gate guards that Nick had detained him for assistance with a case.  A tapir spoke, who had been helped to the hospital after being attacked but not killed in the street.  A deer, who had been talked down from a suicide attempt; Nick had checked on her every week for three months afterward, to make sure she was okay.  A hare, just out of high school and helped to find a job so that he would continue to be a citizen in good standing, despite having the disability of an irreparably mangled leg.

An elk doctor who had been harboring thirty-one elderly mammals who should have been euthanized, a crime that should have earned him a death sentence but Nick used a distraction to let him go.

On and on the stories went, for nearly an hour.  Some were staggeringly simple:  “I tripped, and he helped me up.”  Others were so much more complicated, detailing some of the times when Nick had risked life and limb to actively help prey evade patrols and get out of the city.  And all were honest and heart-felt. 

Last to speak was Judy herself.

“When I was nine, I was attacked by a fox kit named Gideon Grey.  He slashed my face, leaving claw marks that still scar me today.  When I was twelve, the war hit, and when I was fourteen the predators took over Zootopia.  Gideon Grey would resurface in my life after I graduated high school and enrolled in college when he submitted my parents’ names to the predation coalition as past-departure non-conforming individuals.  He smiled as they were dragged away, and I knew I’d hate foxes for the rest of my life.

“Now I’m twenty-four.  A week ago, I was brutally beaten by a dingo on the street.  When a fox enforcer stopped the attack and shoved me in his car, I knew I was going to die.  Of course I was, he was a fox, and an enforcer.  The epitome of everything I hated.  But Nick didn’t kill me.  He bandaged my wounds, offered me medicine, gave me food and water and a place to stay away from suspicious eyes. 

“He was rude, sarcastic, joked about killing and raping me just to get a rise out of me, but despite his crass demeanor his actions were nothing but kind.  He was polite, if teasing, when we met again while he investigated our attacks, and then when he finally found me at the broadcast station the only thing that stopped him from letting me go was the untimely arrival of his team. 

“I was arrested and taken for interrogation, but when one of his agents went rogue he defended me with his life.  By all rights, Nick Wilde should be dead right now thanks to the wounds he suffered giving me the time to free myself.  He knew he was going to die defending me, and he did it anyway.  And now here he sits, barely able to sit up straight without piercing agony, and we have him on trial as a danger to this rebellion.

“You all have a vote in the outcome here.  We have three options:  execution, imprisonment, or full pardon and induction into the rebellion.  You have the opportunity to prove we’re better than the predation coalition, to prove to a predator that we can be compassionate and just.  You have a chance here to change everything.

“Make it count.” 

She turned, approached Nick, and knelt next to his wheelchair, speaking to him softly.  “Nick, according to our rules you have the right to speak in your own defense.  If you would like to do so, now is the time.”

He nodded and took a breath, considering what he could say, how he felt.  Nick was equal parts offended by the whole thing and touched by those who spoke for him.  He was in pain, he was scared, and he was angry at the predators for causing this and at the prey for allowing it to happen.

But most of all, he was tired.  And that, he decided, was what he had to say.

He stood.  With Judy’s help, slowly, painfully, he stood up.  And when he was standing, shaking like a leaf, pale as death, and with Judy supporting him more than his own feet, he spoke loudly and clearly to the assembled mammals.

“I’m not going to stand here and give you a long, fancy speech about how deserving of freedom I am.  I’m not interested in defending myself anymore.  I’ve been alone and fighting since I was twelve years old, and now…I’m tired.  I’m tired of hatred, and of pain, and of betrayal.  I’m tired of mistrust, and I’m tired of being the bad guy.  So I’m done.  I leave it to you.”  He sat heavily and spent most of the next ten minutes struggling to stay conscious in the agony his action had caused.

Voting was handled ballot-style.  Everyone wrote their vote on a card and the cards were collected and counted.  Judy counted them, then Otterton, and then Trunkaby.  Finally, Judy addressed the assembled rebels with the final tally.

“You have voted, and made law,” said Judy.  “Four votes for immediate execution.  Twenty-three votes for imprisonment.  Five hundred thirty-six votes for immediate pardon.  So be it.”

Judy turned to Nick and, loudly enough for the whole room to hear, made a final proclamation:  “Nick Wilde, you have been tried and found worthy.  You are hereby ruled no danger to us, and will be considered a member in full of the Alliance Against Predation for so long as this rebellion shall last. 

“Let it be known that Nicholas Wilde is protected by our law.”

Trunkaby and half a dozen others stormed out, while the rest broke up at a more reasonable pace, moving to resume whatever duties or sleep they’d been called from.

After a long couple minutes of watching the crowd disperse, Nick looked over at Judy, who was still beside him.

“So what now?”

Judy looked down at him seriously.  “Now?  We wait.  In six days, we’ll have won…or we go to war.  With any kind of luck, you’ll be in some kind of shape to help us by then, at least with intelligence.”

Nick nodded.  He would have wheeled himself off to find food, but he could sense a turn in emotion from determination to scared curiosity in Judy, and so he waited patiently while she worked up the courage to face him again.  When she did, she sat on the arm of his wheelchair, rested a paw on his shoulder, and spoke quietly.

“Nick…what happens when a fox loses her soul mate?”

Nick sighed and put a paw on her leg comfortingly.  “It’s not pleasant,” he said lowly.  “The loss you felt when your parents were killed is mild compared to that kind of loss.  When one of us links with our soul mate and one partner dies, the survivor becomes keenly aware that a part of their soul has been ripped away.  It’s like losing your entire family at once.  Like someone carved your heart from your chest. 

“The survivors are changed, forever.  It’s a blow you can never come back from.”

Judy was very solemn as she absorbed his words, and she swallowed hard.  “That sounds horrible.”

“Yes,” replied Nick.  He looked into her deep purple eyes.  “So much so that some survivors choose to follow their beloved prematurely.”

He felt the horror and understanding settle into her, and he reached one paw up to cup her cheek, rubbing his thumb along her cheekbone.  She put her paw over his.

“I thought I was going to lose you, Nick.”

“But you didn’t,” said the fox with a gentle smile.  “I fell into that abyss, but I came back.  _You_ brought me back.  The connection I have with you gave me the strength to resist death.”  He didn’t know if it was true or if it had all been delusions of an unconscious mind, but he decided the words were true enough.  Judy smiled, reassured, and leaned into him.  Nick could smell her breath, a not-unpleasant scent of veggies from her breakfast still lingering, and the moment swelled as they looked into each other’s eyes, their muzzles mere inches from meeting.  They both could feel the tension of it, the slow build under everything, knew that even a spark could set off something wonderful and terrifying.

Nick pulled away.

He settled on holding her paw for awhile as the hidden rebel headquarters returned to normal operation, squeezing it gently, and he took comfort from the pressure she gave in return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took me long enough to get back around to this, huh? I hope it meets with everyone's approval. I'd like to thank Erinnyes for the inspiration for this (and a future) chapter. Also, I have to recognize you all for continuing to give me such wonderful support. You're all awesome. As always, please don't hesitate to comment!


	10. A Plan Is Constructed

The day of Nick’s trial was tense in the tunnels under the city.  Part of this was because of the trial itself:  the necessity of it, and the need to adapt to the outcome, was a source of stress for every mammal present.  Some mammals, those who had nowhere else to go dealt with the tension by hiding out in their quarters or by watching Nick or by interrogating him about his life and motives.  Others, the ones who still had jobs and homes elsewhere, avoided the whole thing entirely by going to work, spending time with friends not in the rebellion, or otherwise avoiding the tunnels.  As the avoidance behavior was largely normal for mammals whose involvement hadn’t been discovered, nobody seemed to care. 

Then there was Francine Trunkaby and the four mammals on her side.  They didn’t leave the tunnels and had sequestered themselves in a chamber near the edge of the rebellion-controlled tunnel system.  Nobody could get in and nobody was sure what they were doing or planning.  They didn’t attempt to explain themselves and so those who were in the tunnels had only speculation.

On Nick’s part, the day was spent doing as little as possible.  Even rolling himself around in his wheelchair caused aches and shooting pain in the wound in his gut, so he spent most of the day sitting quietly in one corner of the common room observing those who came in and deflecting questions posed to him.

The second day Nick was given another examination by the doctor, who was surprised to see that the gash in Nick’s hip was already largely healed, the skin knitted together nicely.  The more severe wound where Charlene had shredded his torso was not yet knitted together but was still well ahead of schedule, having noticeably begun healing already.  Nick’s mobility improved quickly. 

On the part of the other mammals, their routine quickly went back to normal.  By the end of Nick’s second day in the tunnels, he’d become a fixture.  Even those who had voted against him in the trial began to relax around him, though Trunkaby and her cronies remained sequestered in their corner.

Judy spent both days alternately seeing to Nick and in deep discussion with her advisors.

The morning of the third day, Judy asked Nick to come with her to the morning meeting with her advisors.  He obliged with no complaint, and she led him to a discrete roped off corner of the common area.  Among her advisors were a female pig, a gazelle doe, a light-grey hare buck with dark stripes, a tapir male, and Otterton.  They were sitting around a table and gazed impassively at Nick as Judy wheeled him up to it.

“Good morning everyone; you know Nick.”  Judy began introducing them to Nick.  “Pearl Swinton, Isabel Ripoll, Jack Savage, Norman Wheeler, and you know Otterton.  These are my advisors, they help me with planning and difficult decisions.”

“We have questions,” said Jack, the hare with the piercing teal eyes.

“Of course you do,” replied Nick.  “And I have answers.  Let’s see if they match.”  It didn’t get the laughs he hoped, but the pig, Pearl, smiled a little.  Nick cleared his throat self-consciously.  “I’m an open book.  If I know the answer, it’s yours.”

“Why didn’t you defend yourself at your trial?”  Otterton asked him, leaning forward, elbows on the table.

Nick took a breath, let it out slowly.  “I don’t care anymore,” muttered Nick to the table.  “I’ve been fighting a battle against my own kind, my own people, by myself, for years.  I’ve never gotten thanks.  I’ve never had a break.  I have exactly one real friend in the world.  I’m tired.  I don’t care anymore what happens to me.  I don’t have the willpower to care anymore.”

“Then what drives you to help?”  The pig asked, this time.

Nick sat in silence for a long moment, deliberating whether he wanted to tell the truth.  He owed it to them, but it was a secret he’d kept for years.  He’d told the elk because he expected to never see him again, and he told Judy because she was Judy.

Judy put a paw on his wrist, and he could feel the pride and encouragement surge in her.

Ne nodded.  “When my mother was sixteen, she met a tod with whom she fell deeply in love.  They had a whirlwind courtship and married before she turned seventeen; I was born three months later.  Her husband was killed before my first birthday, and she spent the following three years alone and depressed.  She cared for me, she was a wonderful mother, but she wasn’t happy.

“One day, a hare came into her restaurant.  He claimed to be a Special Agent in the ZIA, just taken off field duty and given a desk in the city.  He was a known flirt, would flirt with any mammal with a pulse, but he charmed her.  He made a joke and she smiled for the first time in three years.”

Nick took a moment to take a breath and adjust his position.  He wrapped his tail around his waist, and Judy squeezed his wrist.  She could sense his upset.

Jack gazed at him with an intensity Nick had never seen in a hare since his dad died.

Nick continued, speaking directly to Jack.  “So they started dating.  My father may have been dead, but I had a dad again.  Jackson Leaps was the best mammal I’ve ever met.  I loved him as if he were my own father, and for all I cared he was.  He made my mom happy, he made me happy. 

“When I was twenty, war started.  We’d all heard about the predation coalition gaining power in the west, but nobody took them seriously, and that was our downfall.  They attacked, and Dad joined the Zootopian Army the next day.

“There wasn’t enough of him left to bury.  And mom didn’t survive the loss of the love of her life.  So I joined the PC hoping to bring them down from within.  I’ve been fighting since.”

Nick saw comprehension in Jack’s face, and he nodded at the hare.  “Your mother’s maiden name was Leaps, wasn’t it, Jack?  You were named for your uncle.”  Jack nodded.   “I knew who you were the moment I saw you.  You inherited his eyes.”

Jack swallowed thickly and took a steadying breath.  Nick looked away, and the group sat in silence for a long few minutes.

“You fight for your dad,” said Otterton finally, breaking the silence.  “To honor his memory.”  Nick nodded. 

The tapir, Norman, cleared his throat.  “Nobody can fake that kind of emotion.  I trust you, Mr. Wilde.  I suggest we induct Nick into this war council in full.”

“Seconded,” replied Judy without hesitation.

“Agreed,” said Otterton.

“Me too,” nodded Pearl.

“Absolutely,” said Isabel the gazelle. 

Jack took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and nodded.  “Yeah.  Let’s do it.”

Judy nodded and turned in her seat to face Nick.  “So here’s what we’ve got.  In Zootopia, the PC has four discrete ammo dumps.  One each in Sahara Square, City Central, Tundra Town, and Canyonlands.  We have used some of our biggest, most influential allies to plant C4 explosives in those ammo dumps; we can trigger them from anywhere in the city, and we have evacuation plans in place to evacuate any citizens in danger of being killed in the blast.”

Otterton took over.  “In addition to that, the army has six heavily guarded barracks throughout the city, together housing eighty percent of the army each evening.  The other twenty percent is at any given time on patrol, guard duty, or taking part in some other action in the city.  We have an accomplished hacker who has opened up backdoors in the barracks’ security systems, allowing her to lock down the barracks.  Nobody will be able to get in or out without her say-so.  We are able and prepared to take action against any who do not then surrender unconditionally.”

Isabel continued, a noticeable accent to her voice.  “In addition to the ammo dumps, the army has one dedicated armory in city central that contains all their small arms.  The quartermaster in charge of it is on our side and has been systematically disabling every Coalition-controlled weapon in the city.”

“What we need to know,” said Jack, “is how to get to General Khan.  We know he’s in the city, and we want to give him the chance to personally surrender before we kill all his soldiers.”

Nick sat up in his wheelchair and shook his head.  “General Shere Khan is an arrogant prick,” said Nick.  “He has no fear and no respect for any animal who isn’t a predator.  You will never sway him.  The best way to stop him is to put a bullet in his brainpan and be done with it.  If he goes, I guarantee you half the army will surrender then and there.”

“How do we do that?” Pearl asked.

Nick spent a moment to consider.  “Well, it won’t be easy.  He never goes anywhere without wearing level four body armor, and he’s got eight bodyguards around him at all times.  Your best bet is to employ a very good sniper with a very good rifle and take him during his morning cigarette on his penthouse balcony.”

The mammals looked at each other for a long moment, then Judy spoke quietly.  “Bogo.”

Nick raised his eyebrow.  “The Precinct One records sergeant?”

“Sergeant Bogo,” explained Otterton, “has the highest score the Police Academy’s urban sniper training has ever seen.  He’s the single best sniper in Zootopia history.”

Isabel nodded.  “He once took a watermelon from nearly two miles in a light wind with a fifty-year old rifle and broken scope.”

“…Karma’s tail…I’m glad I’m on his side.”  Nick swallowed heavily.  “Anyway…you need to get a very good rifle in his hands.  I recommend a PSG-1, if you have the megafauna variant in your armory.  He’ll know what perch to find better than I would, and the sooner you give him the mission the more time he’ll have to stalk and set up his shot.”

Judy nodded.  “I think we have one, yeah.  We’ll send him a message.  He’s effectively taken over the entire ZPD, so he’s definitely in a position to get anything he needs for the job.”

“Right,” said Nick.  “Like I said, once General Khan is dead, a lot of the army will surrender right there.  He’s managed to ‘win’ most over through fear and political trickery. 

“Since most of the enforcers were already taken out—well done on that, by the way—you’ve already removed the bulk of Khan’s die-hard followers.  Most of the rest will end up being in the barracks, since they’re officers and think it’s beneath them to go on night patrol.  Or any patrol.  I can give you a couple names to particularly watch out for. 

“There is one other problem.”  Nick placed his paws flat on the table before him.  “There’s a small platoon of elite soldiers directly under Khan’s command.  They’re called The Marauders.  If their commander gives the order, or if he is slain, they will trigger something called the Wildfire Protocol.  I don’t know what it is or how it works, but I know it’s an endgame policy.  An all-or-nothing precaution of some kind.  You need someone to take them out when Khan is killed.  At the same moment.  And it will not be easy, as they are the best-trained soldiers in the army.  Mostly wolves, a couple tigers.  There are sixteen of them.”

The atmosphere abruptly curdled and the mammals in front of Nick exchanged looks. 

“How,” asked Judy, feeling surprised and uncertain, “have we never heard of this before?”

Nick shrugged.  “It’s Khan’s best-kept secret.  I know because I learned tricks from my dad.  I’m a very good spy, and I was put on a protection detail with Khan’s bodyguards once.”

The conversation then broke into disposition of supplies, assignment of troops, and assembling a timetable for the morning everything would begin.  Nick tried to listen, but he ended up zoning out.

Above them, the week of sun broke.  He could hear the patter of rain begin falling on the roof of the abandoned subway station, a patter that quickly grew to become a roar.  It was a soothing sound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may take a sabbatical from Inexorable for a couple weeks while I work out how I want to proceed. Sorry about that. I will continue writing my drabbles and When Parents Are Shippers, of course.
> 
> I'd like to thank Selaxes for his help with this chapter, as he provided some sniper expertise for me. Thanks, my friend.
> 
> I am not a strategist, I'm not a military scientist, and I have definitely never been in the military. So any outrageous errors in those fields here are mine and mine alone.


	11. Minds Changed and Blows Struck

Nick’s recovery over the next couple days was ever more rapid.  By the evening prior to the planned city-wide coup, he was able to walk around the tunnels with little discomfort, though he’d suffer pain and discomfort if he exerted himself too much.  The tunnels had become fairly empty as well by that evening, as most of the rebels who stayed down there started moving out of the tunnels to set themselves up in various places in the city in preparation for the morning’s war.  Left remaining were the few dozen most important members of the rebellion and Trunkaby, who had been abandoned by her cronies in favor of doing their duty.  Trunkaby remained sequestered out of the way, her room’s intercom disabled and refusing to leave.

Judy approached Nick late that evening, a garment bag in paw.  “I went to your apartment.”  She laid the bag on the cot in the room they’d been sharing, and zipped it open.  “I know you like your suits and you’ve been suffering with that ugly green palm-print for days now.  Thought you’d appreciate one of your suits instead.”

Nick picked the clothing out of the bag with a smile.  It was another black-on-black-on-black ensemble, cut to resemble asian tunic suits with a stiff raised collar and four buttons down the front.  To go over it was an asian-inspired ankle-length trench-coat of the same true black silk as the suit. 

It had been the last gift from his father before he went to war.

Nick’s paws trailed softly over the fabric as he held the jacket, his emotions a complicated jumble of sadness, pride, and reminiscence.  The last time he’d worn this suit he had gone on duty officially for the first time as a Predation Enforcement Agent.

He said nothing as he swiftly disrobed and pulled the suit on.  It fit perfectly, and he struck a pose after donning the trench coat.

“How do I look?”

“…sexy, actually.”  Judy laid another object on the cot next to the garment bag, her emotions carefully neutral.  It was a polymer case.  “I also found this in your closet.  I…thought you might want them.”

Nick opened the case.  Inside was a pair of semi-automatic pistols, and a silver medal with the words:  _Nicholas Piberius Wilde, Predation Enforcement Agent First Class._   The pistols were black Smith & Wesselton M&P .45, heavily modified for the very regimented Enforcer gun arts.  The forty-five caliber pistols were accompanied in the case by a spare magazine each, and were loaded.

He reverently lifted them from the case, feeling their weight.  It had been a long time since he’d held these.  As he fitted the guns into their concealed holsters inside the trench coat and the magazines in the pouches on his belt, he felt Judy’s emotions shift to a cautious pride.  Nick looked up at her, and she smiled at him.

“I’ve never seen another mammal so attractive, or so intimidating.”  She put a paw on his arm.  “I’d like to say he’s all mine.”

Nick lowered himself to bring them eye to eye.  “I think I’d like that too.”

She was only inches from his muzzle; they were breathing each others’ breath.  “How do you feel about me, Nick?”

“You know how I feel, as much as I know you feel.”  He took her paws in his.

“Say it anyway,” demanded Judy softly, searching his eyes, a longing in her heart.

“I was ready to die for you, Judy,” said Nick.  “But dying is easy.  Now, I want to _live_ for you.  I’ll live for you, because you’ve captured me in a way nobody ever has before.”

He could tell she knew it was the closest she’d get to the words she wanted to hear, and they smiled at each other at the same time.  Nick knew the couple inches between them could so easily be breached.  It would be electric and validating.

He drew back and stood, and did not miss the disappointment in Judy’s eyes.

Before another word could be said, footsteps in the tunnel outside heralded the arrival of a large mammal:  McHorn, the rhino who had been against Nick until the trial and joined his side after.  He peeked his head in the door.

“Trunkaby has decided,” he said.

“What?”  Judy turned to face him, ears erect.

“She’s been weighing her options and making plans,” explained the rhino.  “I had a mouse in her room watching her.  She’s decided to kill Nick.”

“She can’t.”

“She will.  She doesn’t care about the rules, Hopps.  She thinks you’ve doomed the rebellion by letting him in here.”

Judy frowned, put her paws on her hips, and her foot started thumping rapidly on the ground.  “When?”

“Tonight,” said McHorn before withdrawing and shutting the door quietly.

“I don’t know what to do,” said Judy.  “Do I lock her up?  Talk her down?  Should I shoot her?”

“Neither.”  Nick dusted off his coat, then tugged it straight.  “Do nothing.  Let her do what she thinks she needs to do.”

Alarm shot through Judy.  “Nick, _no_.  I already nearly lost you once.  I will not lose you again.”

“You won’t,” said Nick confidently.  “I won’t let her kill me.”

The intercom crackled, and a voice came over, sounding panicked.  _“A group of predator soldiers have found the tunnels.  Evacuate.  I repeat, evacuate!  Fall back to the secondary site!”_

Nick locked eyes with Judy.  “Trunkaby won’t know.”

“Leave Trunkaby to her fate.”

“That’s cold, for a bunny.”  Nick turned to the door and opened it.  “I can’t just let her be gunned down.”

“She wants to kill you, Nick.  Leave her.”

Nick drew a breath, and sighed softly.  “I can’t, Fluff.  If I leave her to die, she’ll have been right about me.  Go.  Get out.  I’ll meet back up with you topside.”

Judy grabbed his arm and pressed a slip of paper into his palm, gave him a long look, and then rushed off to join the throng of mammals rushing out of the converted tunnels.  Nick spared a moment to look at the paper, discovering it was a hastily written address:  the backup site.  Then he went toward the sound of gunfire, following it as the soldiers ahead of him moved through searching for any remaining rebels.

The trail of bodies Nick followed was thankfully scant.  Most of the remaining rebels managed to escape.

He caught up with them outside Trunkaby’s room, just as they threw the door open.  It was a group of lions and tigers, ten of them armed with automatic weapons.

Trunkaby, unarmed and caught flatfooted, started at them in shock, then spotted Nick.

“Judas,” she snarled as they raised their weapons.  “Betrayer.  You’ve doomed us all!”

“Good evening,” said Nick calmly, ignoring Trunkaby.  The cats hesitated in their execution of the elephant and looked over their shoulders at Nick.  Most of them turned to face him, pointing their weapons at him, and Nick boldly drew his firearms, holding them at his sides.

“Drop your weapons,” barked a particularly large lion, the tag on his uniform saying _Lionheart_. 

“No,” said Nick.  As he spoke he stepped forward, surrounding himself with the soldiers.  “My name is Nicholas Piberius Wilde.  I’m a third-rank Enforcer, graduated top of my class at Paras Enforcer Training Facility, first-class master of gun arts.  I invite you to surrender now or flee; if you do not, you will die.”

“You’re a traitor,” said Lionheart.  “Execute him.”

They tried.

As they began firing, Nick turned, crouched, spun, ducked, and lunged, all while turning his pistols in a series of regimented and practiced movements; after each movement he fired, and every time he fired a forty-five caliber slug found a home in a target.  His maneuvers were carefully crafted to inflict the maximum amount of damage to the maximum number of targets while keeping Nick clear of the traditional kill zones of enemy weapons.  All enforcers were trained in this martial art and thus all enforcers were deadly.

And Nick was the best of them all.

In only moments, the gunfire faded into silence and Nick stood with empty weapons amid a pile of fallen, dying feline soldiers.  He reloaded and put away his firearms while Trunkaby gaped at him.  Then he carefully stepped out of the crowd of corpses, away from the elephant.

“The rebellion has fallen back to the secondary site,” said Nick over his shoulder.  “I suggest you consider carefully to whom your loyalty lies before you go there.  Judy will not tolerate a coup from you.”

“Why did you save me?” asked Trunkaby, sounding suspicious.  “You know I hate you.  You know I want you dead.”

“Exactly,” said Nick, quietly.  Then he walked away, the silence of the tunnels providing ample room for him to consider the lives he’d just taken, and the cost it would exact on his soul.

 

* * *

 

Yumba Bogo’s first name meant “uncertain” in the language of his grandfather, but the name could not have described him any more poorly.  From a young age, Bogo had known precisely what he wanted in life, and it was all he worked toward.  His goals were lofty:  Bogo wanted nothing more or less than to become the chief of police of the Zootopia Police Department.

His plans were thwarted when the predators attacked Zootopia.  Overnight, Bogo had gone from a respected Lieutenant in the ZPD to a lowly records officer, and he spent the next ten years building a network of officers across the city who were as displeased as he was.  By the time young Judy Hopps approached him to join her rebellion, he’d gathered quite the army of officers of all kinds willing to act.  They lent the rebellion their support and bided their time, and when Judy’s message went across the city they sprang into action.  In only a few hours, the ZPD had taken control of most of the city, with a bit of support from the rebellion.  And in charge of all of the good officers…was Officer Yumba Bogo.  He was chief at last, even if not officially.

He’d spent the last three days scouting the massive tower in city center, once called the Pinnacle of Liberty and now branded the Tooth of Khan.  The general lived on the top floor penthouse.  Bogo used his new influence to lay out flags in discrete places on top of some of the taller towers to act as wind indicators, confirmed some of the information he’d gathered from Judy’s informant, and found a perch on top of another tower nearly a mile away from Khan’s home.  The shot would be uphill, so to speak, but it was not an impossible thing.  He’d set up a table to use as a shooting platform, had brought up a high-powered telescope to watch the general, and spent each morning watching Khan’s routine. 

The morning of the coup came.  The plan, it had been explained, was for Bogo to lie in wait while Judy, her informant, and a small task force of rebel soldiers invaded the basement of the tower to take down the Marauders.  Once they were dead and the so-called Wildfire Protocol was disarmed, Judy would radio him an all-clear to him.  Bogo would then take the shot.  He had a headset connected to his radio, the receiver pressed into his ear as he assembled his rifle and laid on the padded table.  The sun was just coming up, and he could see lights in the General’s room through his telescope, which was situated such that he could peer through it without throwing off his shooting position.

Bogo spent a moment to clear his mind, then he locked back the bolt on his M40 rifle and pushed five cartridges into the weapon.  After one last deep breath, he pushed the bolt forward, locking a cartridge into the breach, and settled behind the attached high-powered scope to wait.

Bogo watched from his distant perch as the massive Bengal tiger left his penthouse and walked across his expansive balcony, the bulky weight of body armor apparent even at this distance.  The cape buffalo impassively witnessed the tiger pull out a cigarette and a lighter, light up, and spend a few minutes leisurely smoking it while leaning on the railing and looking over the city he’d claimed as his own.  During this process, Bogo checked his wind markers, adjusted his scope for the wind and distance, and settled the crosshairs over the tiger.

It was raining heavily.  He could still see his target, would still be able to make the shot, but the driving rain made him uncomfortable.  That was likely why the call from Judy was taking so long to come through.  A glance at his watch made him snort in worry:  He’d expected them to be finished with their task five minutes ago.

Khan snuffed the butt of his cigarette and turned to go back inside.

_“Take the shot!”_   The voice on his radio was not Judy’s, it was male and it was filled with grief.  _“It’s done, take the shot!”_

Bogo squeezed the trigger.  The weapon exploded with a roar of sound, driving the bullet out across the city, and he watched as the lead slug struck the tiger with all the force of a strike from the Gods, blowing through the cat in a devastating blow.  Khan the would-be king was dead before he hit the ground.

“Muda mrefu kuishi mfalme,” said Bogo as lightning struck and thunder rolled.  _Long live the king._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again I'd like to thank Selaxes for his sniper expertise last month. 
> 
> I know this took a long time for me to get back to, but here's the next chapter. Only a couple remain. I'd like to thank Selaxes and Cimar of Turalis Wildehopps for their assistance in nailing down exactly how I wanted to handle this chapter. Their feedback was instrumental in breaking the block I had with this story. Thank you guys, so much.
> 
> The language Bogo speaks is Swahili, theoretically, but I used Google Translate. If any of my readers speak Swahili and would like to offer me a better, more accurate translation, please do so and I'll edit accordingly.
> 
> Lastly, I drew inspiration for Nick's performance in this chapter from the film Equilibrium, with Christian Bale. If you'd like to get a feel for what it actually looks like when he engages the soldiers, watch the video I've linked below. He's performing the Tetra Grammaton gun kata. Because awesome, that's why ;)
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U02E2sjwlLM


	12. "They Fight, Paris Falls."

Judy was waiting for Nick to emerge from the tunnels.  She’d hidden herself away in a narrow alley and watched for him, and when she felt his presence approaching and spotted his narrow form trotting along the sidewalk, she slipped out of the alley and matched his stride.  He showed no surprise at her presence and his gait didn’t change.  She felt his dark mood.

“What happened?”

Nick shook his head.  “I killed them.  All of them.”

“We’re at war, Nick.”

“That doesn’t mean I should be okay with death.”

Judy pulled him to a stop.  “Nick, we’re _at war_.  We’ve been killed indiscriminately for ten years.  It’s time the predators started to feel the hurt we’ve dealt with all this time.  Besides, you’re an _Enforcer_.  You’ve killed before.  Why is this any different?”

He looked down at her, and for the first time Judy truly appreciated how much taller he was than her, how much he’d been stooping and crouching to bring himself more to her level.  Not counting her ears, when Nick stood tall as he did now, Judy came up to his belly.  It was disconcerting, to say the least.

“Hopps, I’ve spent my career doing as little damage to prey as possible.”  His voice was cold, remote, but she felt the roiling of his emotions passing across their link.  “I was raised to deny my instincts.  To fight against my impulse to hunt and kill.  I spent my entire childhood learning to push my hunter’s instincts to other pursuits, to use those natural impulses in constructive ways instead of destructive ones. 

“Even my resistance against the predator occupation has been as nonlethal as possible, Hopps.  Now I’ve killed ten of them.  Ten lives, cut short.  Ten soldiers following orders.  Ten living, breathing mammals with histories and ambitions and worries and friends and _families_ of their own.  I’ve done precisely what I’ve always been taught was inexcusable.”

Judy’s mouth opened in understanding, and her heart clenched in her chest.  “If it’s so hard for you…if it’s so repulsive…why would you do it?”

Nick gazed down at her for a long moment, then lowered to face her at her level, his face close to hers.  “I have a stake in the outcome, Judy.”  His eyes flicked down at her lips, briefly, and Judy’s mouth went dry at the thought of what could come next.  “I have people in the fight that I need.”  He stood, once again turning from the moment, and stalked away.

It took Judy a moment to spur herself to follow.

Judy caught up with him and the next twenty minutes were silent as they jogged away from the entrance to the tunnels and even away from the address she’d given him for the backup site.  Eventually, Nick spoke.

“Where are we going, Fluff?”

“ZPD,” said Judy simply.  “Bogo won’t be there, but we will need one of his officers tomorrow.  She’s a pretty brilliant computer technician, and we’ll need her to disable Wildfire.”

Nick snorted.  “You’re planning to bring a computer technician to a fight with a group of the most well-trained combatants in the city?”

Judy shrugged uncomfortably.  “Well, I can’t do the job.  And she’s able to handle it.  I hope.”

Nick shook his head as the ZPD Precinct One building came into view.  “I don’t think so.  New plan.  We’re not taking a team of fighters into that tower, I’m going in alone while you and the nerd hack the system.”

“Right, and you’ll just magically survive a fight with them?”

“Not without more firepower.”  They entered the lobby and Judy led Nick downstairs to the cybercrime unit.  The office was deserted, save for one figure tapping at the keys.  She looked up as the pair entered.

“A rabbit?” asked Nick.  “Your tech guy is a rabbit?”

“I’m a hare, actually,” snapped the white lagomorph.

“…right.  A hare.  I didn’t think smaller prey were able to get positions in the ZPD.”

“They’re not,” replied Judy, stopping next to the hare’s seat.  “Karen just happens to be very, very good at her job.”

“I’m a civilian consultant, strictly speaking,” muttered Karen, nudging a notepad on her desk slightly straighter.  The desk was immaculately clean and neat, and the program open on the computer was more technical than Nick could hope to understand.  “But the ZPD felt my talents were important enough to hire me on unofficially.  Over time the ‘unofficial’ shifted.  Are you hungry, Hopps?”

Judy flashed a look at Nick, then grinned.  “Nope.  This is Nick Wilde, he—“

“He’s an enforcer,” interrupted Karen.  “I know who he is.  You’ve defected, Enforcer Wilde?”

The hare met his eyes for the first time since he entered the room, and the look could be described as almost hostile.  She was not comfortable with his presence.

“That’s right,” said Nick, dragging a chair from another desk and sitting in it.  “And you don’t like me much anyway.”

Karen looked away from him, back at her screen.  “I’m not a ‘people mammal’.  Karen Skippel, I’m Hopps’s tech expert.  Hopps, I’ve got that thing set up for tomorrow morning; it’ll lock down all the barracks at dawn.”

Judy became a bit nervous, and bit her lip before speaking.  “About tomorrow…we need you in the field.”

Karen shook her head.  “I don’t do field work.  Find someone else.”

“Are you from Tundratown?” interrupted Nick.  “You’re really fluffy.”

“Shove off, Wilde.”

Judy shot Nick a look, then turned back to Karen.  “Look, I need you.  You, specifically.  Can you hack the tower’s system from here?”

“Can I ‘hack’ the ‘system’ in the Tooth of Khan from here?”  Karen pinched the bridge of her short muzzle and sighed.  “I’m surrounded by idiots.  No, Hopps, I can’t ‘hack’ it from here.  I have to be at the tower to gain access.  The whole internal system is cut off from the nets for security.”

“Then I need you with us tomorrow, Karen,” said Judy sternly.  Then, her voice softened.  “Please.  There’s a program we need disabled.”

“It’s called Wildfire,” said Nick.  “The Wildfire Protocol.”

Karen looked over at him slowly.  “ _Khan_ has Wildfire?”

Nick nodded.  “Yeah.  I understand that it’s hooked to Khan and his Marauders through some kind of electronic dead mammal switch.  If Khan or his Marauder Captain are killed before it’s shut down, it triggers.  You know what Wildfire is?”

“Goddamn it,” muttered Karen.  “Wildfire is a program that weaponizes the computer-automated climate controls in Zootopia.  If it goes live, Zootopia will fall.  I thought it was destroyed years ago.”

The three fell into silence as Judy and Nick digested that.

Finally, Judy drew a breath.  “Can you disable it?”

Karen shrugged.  “Sure.  I’ll need twenty minutes and direct access to the system.”

“Well, get some rest, Snowball,” said Nick to Karen, standing, “because we’re leaving before dawn.”

“I don’t sleep much, so I’ll be here.”

Judy joined Nick in his trek to the door, and as they opened the hall door, Karen spoke up again.  “Oh and Wilde?  Call me Snowball again and I’ll shoot you.”

Nick managed to avoid smiling until they were in the hall.

“She doesn’t much like me, does she?  Which is a pity, because I like her.  She’s cute.” 

“Don’t call her cute, Nick.  It’s offensive.  And like she said, she doesn’t like anybody.”

They fell into silence.  Nick led Judy through the building to a break room, where there was a megafauna sized couch along one wall.  He hopped up on one end of it and nestled himself into the soft cushion.  Judy hopped up next to him.

“You’ve been in the ZPD a lot,” she remarked; he had to have, because he knew the layout well enough to find the break room.

“No, just a couple times before,” said Nick, with his eyes closed.  “I memorized the blueprints a long time ago.”  Judy looked at him, and watched with fascination as her fox drifted off to sleep in just a couple moments.  He slept lightly and very quietly, and his emotions came across their link very muffled, as if hearing whispering through a pile of blankets.

She nestled into his side, and smiled when he unconsciously drew her into him.  It took her longer to fall asleep than him, but she did sleep.

 

* * *

 

Nick dreamed of death.  He dreamed of agonizing rabbit screams.  He dreamed of the crunch of breaking bone and the heavy stench of fear-adrenaline and the thick taste of fresh blood in the mouth, and Nick dreamed of death.  And he woke to the gentle comfort of a soft paw running through the fur on his head, and he felt the trembling of a warm body in his arms

Violet eyes peered up at him in the dimmed ZPD break room, and as his own heart began to slow with the details of the dream fading, her trembling began to fade as well.

“You’re okay, Nick,” whispered Judy.

Nick took a deep breath and released it in a sigh.  “Did you…?”

She shook her head.  “I didn’t see the dream, but I felt your terror.  It woke me up.”

“I’m sorry.”  He grabbed the paw with which she was petting him, and held it gently at his side while she burrowed back into his chest.

“Don’t be,” said Judy quietly, pressing the side of her face into him.  “It let me bring you out of it.”

Nick put his other paw around her, pressing her into him more tightly and tucked her under his muzzle, resting his chin on her head.  They laid there for a long while awake, listening to the other breathing, hearing the quiet, muffled sounds of the ZPD night shift moving around in other parts of the building.

Sometime later, the door opened and a fluffy white hare poked her head in.  Nick looked over and caught the expression on Karen’s face; he couldn’t decide if it was disgust, curiosity, or envy.

“Dawn in one hour,” said Karen sharply.  “Get up.”  Then she was gone.

As they climbed off the huge sofa and stretched and worked on waking up properly, Nick reflected on the situation.  He was in love with Judy, of that he was certain.  There was no other explanation.  And it was only natural that he should be, because she was his soulmate.  But Judy was a rabbit, and that revealed a reality Nick had been unwilling to face.  It meant that Nick was very much Not Normal, in a world where going against the norm could be quite dangerous indeed.  He’d refused to accept it at first, but now he couldn’t look at this powerful little bunny without his heart flipping in his chest.  He couldn’t go more than a few minutes without thinking of her.  Her constant presence, like a soft pressure on his mind, eased anxiety and provided a certain stability to his thoughts. 

He loved Judy Hopps, and he didn’t know how he should feel about it.  The more traditional-minded would call him queer, and they’d be right.  They’d say his attraction to a person with whom he could not naturally reproduce—a person outside his species—would be an abomination.  It was the same thing he heard so many years ago about his mother when she began dating Jackson Leaps.  The hisses about her character, the whispered insults about her sexual depravity, the insistence that it made her unfit to parent; he’d heard it all, and he’d vowed to himself that he’d only ever love vixens.  He’d never be a bad person like they said his mother was.

Now here he was, waking up from a night with a bunny.  Chaste, yes, but all the more intimate for the innocence of it.  And he couldn’t help but wonder how sensual Judy could be.  He’d fallen to the depravity he’d swore off so long ago, and Karma help him…he couldn’t bring himself to regret it.

Presently, Judy put a soft paw on his arm.  “You feel dark, again.  Are you okay?”  Her beautiful eyes were colored with concern.

Nick nodded and smiled.  “You’ve changed everything, Judy.  I don’t know what the future holds, but…as long as you’re with me, I can face it.”

She smiled back at him, and together they left the break room and made their way down to the armory, to which Nick had a key.  When they entered, Nick looked around for a moment, then went to a back corner where there were boxes of metal canisters.  He lifted two different ones, and showed them to Judy.

“Crybabies,” said Nick, brandishing one, “or anti-personnel grenades?”  He brandished the other.

Judy stared at him blankly. 

“You’re right,” said Nick.  “Anti-personnel grenades are better.  We’re trying to kill them, not incapacitate them.”

“Why the bombs?”  Judy gingerly lifted one.  Nick gently took it from her.

“Because a couple grenades will kill most of the Marauders in one go, leaving only a couple for us to deal with.”  He stuck several grenades in his pockets, then wandered over to grab a box of pistol cartridges for his sidearms.

“I didn’t even know police departments _had_ weapon stockpiles,” said Judy as Nick moved to another section.

“They don’t,” said Nick, as he began loading submachine gun magazines.  “When Khan took over the city, he had Precinct One create an armory so that he could militarize them at a moment’s notice.  In his arrogance, he thought the officers of Precinct One would never betray him.”  He turned and handed Judy a P90 and a couple magazines, then headed out of the room and to the tech department. 

Karen was just finishing packing a bag, putting a rabbit-sized laptop inside.  She slung it over one shoulder and looked up as they entered.

“I don’t like action,” said Karen.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine.”  Nick gestured to the open door they just came through, ready to be on his way.

Karen walked through the door and led them upstairs.  “I don’t think you understand, Wilde.  I do not. Like. Action.  I’m not a beat cop, okay?  I’m a computer mammal.”

“That’s fine,” said Judy.  “If everything goes right, there won’t be any action until your job is done.”

“And if there is?”

Judy hesitated, and looked sheepish.  “…don’t get shot?”

Karen looked flatly at her, then climbed into a car.

“Good advice, Fluff,” said Nick, climbing into the back seat of Karen’s car. Judy got into the front, and Karen pulled away from the ZPD, bound for the tower now called the Tooth of Khan, in the basement of which lay the Marauders, waiting for them.  The drive was quiet, the roads largely deserted, and they arrived outside the building with no trouble. 

Karen’s nervousness was palpable as they approached the rear of the building, and Nick nudged her as they walked. 

“You don’t need to worry, you know,” said Nick.  “You’ll be fine.  I’ll make sure you’re safe.”

Karen rolled her eyes.  “Things happen beyond your control sometimes, fox.”

They entered a service entrance in the rear of the building and padded quietly down the hall.  Nick, having been in this building before, knew where they were going, and took the lead.  It took no time to find the room he wanted, and as he ducked into it he motioned his companions to be quiet. 

The room held several desks, and Nick sat at one.  “Okay,” said Nick quietly, “you should be able to do your thing here.  The Marauders are down the hall a bit, so let’s not get loud okay?”

Karen sat against the wall on the floor, pulled out her computer, and plugged it into an Ethernet port in the wall.  She sat quietly for a few moments clicking around on her screen, then snorted.

“Right,” said the hare.  “This won’t take as long as I thought it would.”

“That’s good.”  Judy sat down.  “Why is that?”

“Because,” said Karen without looking up from her laptop, “whoever set up the security system guarding Wildfire when it was brought into this system sabotaged it.  It’s very fragile.”

Nick smiled without feeling it; it was going very well, and that made him nervous.  He drew one of his pistols and checked that it was loaded and ready.  Over the next ten minutes, the only sound was his compulsively checking his guns and the tapping and clicking of Karen working.

Finally, something new happened.  “…fuck.”  Karen was staring at her screen in horror.

“What?  What happened?”  Nick stood, guns in paw.

“Uh…”  Karen started typing furiously.  “I tripped a hidden alert.  The Marauders know we’re here.”

“Sweet cheese and crackers,” swore Judy, standing.  She picked up her weapon.  “How long do you need?”

Karen shrugged.  “Just another minute or two.”

“Hurry,” said Nick as he and Judy ducked into the hall.  They heard the sounds of orders being spoken from inside a room a couple doors down the hall.  Nick motioned for Judy to stay where she was, then trotted up to the door, pulled the pins on three grenades, and tossed them into the room.  He made it back to Judy by the time the grenades went off with a loud—albeit muffled—explosion.

“Nick,” said Judy, “that could’ve killed the Captain.”

Nick shrugged and drew his guns.  “Doubt it.”

The next several moments were colored by the dying yells of a dozen soldiers caught in the killzone of one or the other of the grenades.  In the next moment, the door slammed open and three wolves scrambled into the hallway, followed by a fourth ambling casually. 

Immediately, Judy opened fire.  Her untrained shooting was good enough for the short range at which they stood to perforate two of the soldiers, who dropped to the ground unmoving.  Nick’s own gunfire brought down the third, and finally the captain was left.  He was a large arctic wolf with a snow-white coat and blue eyes.  He casually stepped over his fallen subordinates and reached into the grey trench coat he wore, drawing a pair of guns identical to Nick’s. 

“Good morning, Nicholas,” said the wolf.

“Morning, Luka,” replied Nick flatly.  “Still on top, I see.”

“You got it, Nick.  And you’re still soft.  Fighting with morsels?  Really?  You’ve fallen farther than I could have expected.”

“I do what I have to, Luka.”  Nick stepped forward as the wolf did, closing the distance between them.  Nick felt a pulse of aggression from Judy, likely from the slur the wolf used. 

“So do we all, Nick.”  Luka’s arm snapped up and Nick’s training kicked in, dodging the gunfire leveled at him, returning it in kind.  Luka, having been trained as an Enforcement Agent as Nick had, was nearly as skilled at Nick.  Thus the resulting minute of furious strike and counter-strike with accompanying gunfire showed an even match of skill.  Nick was at a disadvantage as he tried to dominate the wolf, because he was trying to do so without killing him.

Finally, their guns clicked, empty, and the canines broke apart.  Nick glanced back at Judy:  she was crouched, training her own weapon on Luka ready to fire the moment Karen gave the word.

Speaking of Karen….  “Skippel,” shouted Nick over his shoulder.  “Get a move on!”

“Shut the fuck up, fox,” shouted the hare in return from the office.  “If you would stop _shooting_ and _talking to me_ , maybe I could _finish my goddamn job_.”

Luka used the distraction to his advantage.  He closed with Nick and savagely clubbed him in the face with his gun, sending Nick sprawling across the ground, stunned.  As he struggled to get his limbs to work, Nick watched as Luka stalked around him, edging close to Judy.  Nick snarled as he got close to the rabbit, and Luka finally glanced down at Judy.

“Oh, is she special to you, Nick?”

“Don’t touch me,” snapped Judy, standing and shoving the muzzle of her firearm into Luka’s gut.

Luka simply snatched the gun from her and threw it aside.  Judy responded by leaping up and brutally kicking him in the rib, driving the wolf back a step.  The kick unfortunately also drove Judy to the ground.

Luka, a well-trained martial artist, was not as affected by the kick as Judy expected.  His cocky grin fell away and he stepped over to Judy, where she fell near Nick.

“Shouldn’t have done that, rabbit,” said Luka coldly.

“Don’t,” snarled Nick.

Luka smirked at Nick.  Then he kicked Judy across the face hard enough to send Judy sliding into the wall.  Luka then stepped over to her again, ignoring Nick’s snarl and struggle to stand, and put a foot gently on Judy’s lower belly.

“Watch, Nick, as your dreams fall.”

He pressed a bit, making Judy squirm.  “Squish.”  Luka lifted his foot and brought it back down upon Judy’s belly as hard as he could. 

Nick heard the blood-curdling, heart-rending screaming of his rabbit’s agony.  He heard the crunch of breaking bone, and he smelled the stench of fear-adrenaline.

So he lashed out with his back paw, claws fully extended, and snarled as his claws caught purchase in Luka’s ankle, cutting clean through the wolf’s Achilles tendon, sending the white wolf heavily to the ground with a yelp of pain. 

“It’s done!” yelled Karen from the office, giving Nick all the reason he needed.  He stood over Luka, staring down at him coldly.  The hesitation was long enough for Luka to surge upward at Nick for one last attack, but Nick was furious, and calm in his fury.  The fox simply grabbed Luka’s upper jaw, ripped it back, and snapped his head forward, closing his jaw around Luka’s throat, biting down savagely, hard enough to rip through flesh.  Nick tasted the thick flavor of blood in his mouth, flowing down his throat, as he chewed into Luka’s flesh.

He ripped his head to the side, and with a sickening crunch in his neck, Luka fell limp.

Nick dropped him like so much garbage, and swallowed a mouthful of blood.  He spent a spare moment breathing heavily, trying to clear the rushing in his ears, and then Judy’s fear and pain and moans of agony pierced his anger, and he went to her quickly.

“Oh god, Nick,” gasped Judy, writhing from the waist up.  “Something broke.  God, it hurts!”

“Karen,” shouted Nick over his shoulder.

“What _now_ , Wilde?!”

“Shut the _fuck up_ and call an ambulance!”  Nick gently petted Judy’s head.  “You’re okay, Judy.  You’ll be alright.  Just stay with me.”  Her amethyst eyes, shining with pain and horror, locked with his…and then the light faded from them and they closed as she passed from consciousness.

Nick had enough presence of mind to grab Judy’s radio and send Bogo the all-clear, but after that everything but Judy’s body faded from his awareness.

At some point, Nick found himself at the hospital, alone.  He vaguely remembered Skippel awkwardly telling him she was sorry, and she left.  All his attention was focused on that presence upon his mind, the muffled thread of Judy’s unconscious emotions.  He would know if she passed to the Abyss, and several times during those hours she came close, her presence fading nearly completely away.

It was during those times that he cried.  It was during those times that he prayed.

At long last, she strengthened again, kept strengthening, and plateaued finally at a weak but steady thrumming in the back of his mind.  Minutes after that, a doctor entered the waiting room in which he paced.  She was a red fox, and he knew her.

“Nick Wilde?” asked the vixen incredulously.  “Are you here for Hopps?”

Nick went to her and nodded.  “It’s good to see you, Ruby.  She’s alive.”

It wasn’t a question, and Ruby understood that immediately.  She frowned, then realized what it meant; her frown became sorrow. “You bonded with her, didn’t you?”

Nick nodded.

“I’m sorry, Nick.”  They stood in silence for a moment, and then Ruby cleared her throat.  “So…you know Judy is alive.  She’s going to survive, and she’ll even fully recover, for the most part.”

A chill ran down Nick’s spine.  “…but?”

Ruby took a breath.  “But…the crushing injury she sustained broke her pelvis in four places, drove her reproductive organs into the shards, and snapped her spine.”

Nick inhaled sharply, and his eyes watered, threatening to overflow, and Ruby put a paw on his arm comfortingly.

“She’ll _live_ , Nick,” said the doctor.  “I doubt she’ll ever have children, but she’ll live.”

“And her spine?”  There was a desperate quality to Nick’s question, and the look in Ruby’s eyes was nothing but compassionate.

She shook her head.  “The damage was too great.  Judy Hopps will never walk again.  I’m sorry.”

Nick swallowed hard, made himself focus on that thread of strength from Judy, and nodded.  “But she’ll be alright.  Thank you, Ruby.  So much.”

A large mammal cleared his throat from the doorway of the waiting room.  Nick looked over to see a towering cape buffalo in a police uniform.  He was frowning.

“Enforcer Nicholas Wilde?”

Nick nodded mutely.

“I’m Officer Bogo.”  The buffalo withdrew a page from his pocket.  “As of eleven hours ago, the Predation Coalition surrendered to Zootopia unconditionally, due in part to the assassination of their leader thirteen hours ago.  Since then, the surviving members of Khan’s secret police have been gathered for trial.  I have a warrant here for your arrest, Mr. Wilde, on several counts of war crimes and homicide by proxy.  You’ll be put on trial in the next few weeks.  I need you to come with me.”

Nick nodded.  He couldn’t argue with the buffalo, given his provable involvement with the Predation Coalition and the largely un-provable  assistance he gave the rebellion.  “Who’s in charge now?”

“Of Zootopia?”  The buffalo tucked the warrant back in his shirt pocket.  “A small council of former prey politicians are working on rebuilding the city’s government and infrastructure.  In the next few weeks they’ll appoint a mayor from a short list of candidates, and start repealing the predation laws.”

“And Judy?”  Nick approached the buffalo and allowed himself to be cuffed.

“Judith Hopps,” said Bogo as he led Nick away, “is on the mayoral short list, and will be receiving several medals.”

He was led away, and he went quietly.  All the way back to the ZPD, Nick comforted himself with the knowledge that whatever happened to him, Judy was safe.  Injured…but safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter proper, but I will be publishing a short epilogue sometime soon. I wasn't very happy with my fight scene, but oh well. And any tech or military errors are mine alone.
> 
> EDIT: Forgot to add this. Borrowed Karen Skippel from Kittah4 with permission. Thanks, friend.


	13. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note in case you didn't notice: This is the second chapter posted in this story today. If you've missed the update from a little while ago, please go take a look.

Over the six months following the assassination of General Shere Khan and the subsequent surrender of the Predation Coalition, things changed drastically.  Every Euthanasia clinic was officially shut down and converted to more standard medical facilities; the various predation laws favoring predators and oppressing prey were repealed; those who continued to hunt despite the change in laws were harshly punished; and the fourteen enforcement agents found by the ZPD, the only survivors out of an order of several hundred, were put on trial for many counts including murder, cannibalism, and various war crimes.  The trials were held in the former predator courtrooms, presided over by prey judges and prey juries.  The trials were open, allowing anyone to view the proceedings.

Out of those fourteen, twelve were convicted of one or more of those crimes; nine were sentenced to life in prison, and three were sentenced to death.

Sergeant Trish Fangmeyer pled guilty to all charges with no contest, and was sentenced to life in prison; thanks to her assistance in the rebellion, she was allowed possibility of parole after ten years.

Lieutenant Nicholas Wilde refused to plea, refused even to speak on his own behalf at all, and the judge entered a Not Guilty plea on his behalf.  His trial began three months and two weeks after the surrender of the Predator Army, and until the day his trial began he hadn’t seen Judith Hopps at all.  She was kept away from him by members of the ZPD who claimed her delicate condition made it dangerous for her to see Lieutenant Wilde, and no amount of demanding changed that. 

As Judy was involved in Nick’s behavior toward the end of the rebellion, she was invited finally to serve as a witness; the prosecution first approached her to testify against Nick.  She wasted no time in insulting the prosecutor’s ancestors, implying a lack of intelligence on his part, and banishing him forever from her office.  Subsequently, the defense approached her; they didn’t even get the chance to ask her before Judy agreed to testify in Nick’s defense.

Judy, who by then had been officially voted in as Mayor of Zootopia, gathered as many prey as she could find willing to speak, and the day she was asked to speak for Nick in the court room, she led five hundred ninety-seven individual prey mammals, one after the other, who spoke under oath in Nick’s defense.  Not one of them had a negative word against Nick.  Their testimony was damning to the prosecution.

Finally, once everyone else had spoken, Judy herself took the stand.  With a little help from her assistant, she was helped from her wheelchair and onto the stand, where she spoke quietly, but strongly.

“Nicholas Piberius Wilde,” the official record quoted her as saying, “is the single most courageous mammal I have ever met.  He brought all his secrets to us, told us the things we needed to know, and then proceeded to help us through the process of wresting our freedom from Shere Khan.  Without Nick’s intelligence, without his absolute refusal to be pressured into violating his ethics, without his unshaken courage, we would surely have failed.  More than once, Nick offered his life to defend me.  He nearly died once defending me.  I’ve never met a mammal more worth accolades than him.  Any verdicts against him here would be a criminal abortion of justice.”

The trial went on for another three weeks, but once all testimony was heard and the jury went out for deliberation, they made a decision within ten minutes. 

Lieutenant Nicholas Wilde was cleared of all charges.

The wall that had been erected around City Center was dismantled, and the day the last section came down was labeled a city holiday thereafter.

During the first three months after the victory of the rebellion, predators were very badly treated, to the point of open physical abuse in the streets.  Mayor Hopps took a very harsh stance against such behavior indeed, imprisoning any prey caught doing such things.  Her assistant mayor, Emmitt Otterton, assisted in the normalization of predators by giving speeches alongside Judy, and slowly the public image of predators began to grow more positive.

Life slowly returned so a semblance of normality, and life went on.  The rebuilding effort took a lot of time and money, and predators by the hundreds volunteered to assist with all aspects of rebuilding the damaged infrastructure.

One year precisely after the fall of Khan, two figures stepped out onto the balcony atop the Pinnacle of Liberty, very near the spot where Khan smoked his last cigarette.  It was a bunny in a wheelchair, and a fox pushing her to the railing.

Judy gazed over the city that had become hers, and a smile graced her muzzle as the storm overhead began showering them with rain.  Nick sat on the arm of her wheelchair and draped an arm over her shoulders.

Judy sighed, contentedly.  “It’s been hard work,” she said quietly.

Nick nodded, looking down at her.  “But worth it.”

“Yeah.”  Judy grasped his left paw with her right, reaching across her body.  “There’s still some tension against predators.  It’s been a year, and preds are still getting flak.”

“It’ll take time, Fluff.  You know that.”

Judy hummed an agreement.  “But I thought of a way we might be able to help that along.  What happens when the rabbit mayor and former rebellion leader publicly marries her fox boyfriend?”  She said it so casually, and continued to stare across the city for a long moment before turning to grin up at Nick.  Their faces were inches apart, they were breathing each other’s breath.

Nick grinned back.  “Bunnies," said Nick.  "Defiant to the end."  He closed the distance between them and they shared a sweet, drawn-out kiss, their lips playing against each other and tongues brushing lightly.  It was the first of many more to come.

The rain poured overhead.  They liked the rain; it was soothing, and comforting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inexorable is done. It's been a long time coming, and I'm glad to have done it. It'll be almost sad, though, not working on it anymore. I'm thankful for everyone who has contributed, commented, and left kudos and favorites on this story. You're all awesome, and I love you guys. 
> 
> Now? Now, we move ever forward, to new and better things.


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